


Measure of a Mook

by MagicFlyingSpud



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-11-09 00:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11093145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicFlyingSpud/pseuds/MagicFlyingSpud
Summary: Ever since the Lowardian Invasion, the challenge has greatly escalated for Team Possible and now Ron has to learn how to really use his powers, all the while Kim needs to figure out what she actually wants to do with her life. At least Drakken and Shego have retired from villainy...right?





	1. Chapter 1

“So what do you tell them?”

“Who?”

“Your family.”

“Oh.”

**The Crooked Hook: Providence, Rhode Island  
July 10, 2007: 10:28PM**

A middle-aged, heavyset man with a handlebar mustache grinned, taking a swig from his glass of whiskey. “I tell them that I'm a traveling salesman. So far, I haven't had any problems.”

“Gee, Bob, and you've been in the business for how long? Don't tell me...six years?” an equally large man with sunken cheeks responded, leaning up agains the bar eagerly. His whiskey glass more or less full. 

“Yep,” Bob said proudly, leaning back in his chair at the booth, soaking in the music. Classic country songs by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill were the selected tunes for the tavern that evening. Good times. “And what do you tell your family, Carl?”

“Oh, um, heh,” Carl said, forcing a smile. “Don't have one anymore.” 

Bob turned around, looking into Carl's shimmering eyes. “Wow, I'm sorry—I didn't know that. What happened, man? If you don't mind me asking.”

“D-don’t mind at all. During the whole, uh, Li'l Diablo's thing, I kinda freaked. Usually, you try to relocate them somewhere safe. Like, say he wants to raise the ocean level, well that's a family vacation to La Rinconada...”

“Where's that?”

“Peru. Highest city in the world.”

“No kidding!”

“Yeah, but anyways, when the big guy wants to launch a global attack on the world, I-I mean, where do you bring your family then? I told them everything, and well...” Carl put his glass down and leaned his head up against his hands.

“That's rough, man,” Bob frowned, squirming a little as he watched his fellow colleague break down right there in front of him. “Uh,” he grunted, reaching out towards Carl, placing a rough hand on his shoulder. “You can do it.”

“What?” Carl asked suddenly, his shock completely overriding his sadness. 

“We're not there yet, are we?” Bob asked before retracting his hand. Carl shook his head. He took a swig from his whiskey, then looked up at the television screen above them. “Well would you look at that?”

A brilliant, orange explosion tore through a helicopter. Two shadows descended from the blast, falling quickly, and then stopping for a moment. A parachute, perhaps? They continued to fall, and then finally came into clear picture. A girl with auburn hair and emerald eyes, confidently making her aerial descent, holding onto a cowering elderly man in a tuxedo with one strong arm. Her blond-haired brown-eyed companion was a little less calm, holding her free hand, and using his other hand to shield his eyes from the drop.

“There they are,” Bob mused, smiling at the screen. 

Carl sat up in his chair, folding his hands neatly together. Those two kids. He was well acquainted with both...at least with their fists. He looked away from the screen, down at the stain covered tabletop. 

“Yep. That's them alright.”

**Yamanouchi Ninja School: Yamanouchi, Japan  
July 14, 2007: 3:28PM**

“First, to defeat your enemy, there are two things you must know...”

THWACK! Two hands smacked against a wooden staff, two hands that nearly made contact with Master Sensei, a short man with many years under his belt. Sensei twirled the staff, knocking his two competitors away: Kim Possible and her partner, Ron Stoppable.

“Knowing seventeen different style of martial arts is not one of them,” Sensei said bluntly, watching the passing clouds overhead. Kim looked over at Ron, and gave him a quick nod, and ran off to her left, circling around Sensei. 

_Which one is that again?_ Ron thought, _Aw man, can't we use hand signals or something..._ He sighed and ran forward, leaping into the air, somersaulting his way into a dropkick. But once again, his attack only met wood, not flesh. Sensei flicked his staff upwards, launching Ron into the air, tumbling backwards into Kim. 

“Ron!” Kim whispered, jumping back to her feet, dragging Ron up with her. She turned, staring him down for a silent moment. Ron bowed his head, that stare was not something he could ever deal with, especially in a fight. 

“Watch my six!” Kim shouted, charging towards Sensei. 

“Wait, is that your front or your behind?” Ron shouted back, checking his watch-less wrist. “Aw man.”

“You must know your enemy,” Sensei began, blocking each of Kim's punches and kicks with his staff, almost thoughtlessly. Kim grimaced back, moving faster, her usual patterns falling off standard into something more erratic. Finally, one punch made it past the staff, but missed its target completely. Sensei slammed his pole forward into Kim's chest, knocking her flat on her back. 

“And you must know yourself,” Sensei ended with finality, his body still as ever. 

Kim looked up at the ancient warrior, jaw hanging open, fishing for a comeback. _That's it? Know ourselves?_ She pushed herself back to her feet and finally found the needed words for the given sitch. “With all due respect--”

“Wooooow, Sensei,” Ron said excitedly, “That's some bon-diggity advice right there! Who's got it going on? That's right! Sensei does! KP, did you bring a pen?”

Rolling her eyes, Kim ran forward, swinging again at Sensei. His staff moved up, blocking each of her blows and as usual, only Sensei’s arms moved. Her bare hands and feet were both beginning to bruise and take in splinters from the rough wood so she finally changed up her style; her hands reached out and grabbed the pole. 

A flicker from underneath Sensei's magnificent beard. Perhaps a smirk. Finally, the man decided to move. 

She turned both of her arms to the left, flipping the staff from a horizontal position into a vertical one, throwing Sensei off of the staff and into the air. He flipped mid-flight, landing on the ground gracefully, unharmed. Kim readied the pole as Ron continued to watch from twenty feet away. 

Suddenly, Sensei was on the move. For a man who had previously fought so gracefully and nimbly, he was now more like a tank; his steps heavy, his force relentless, and his determination terrifying. His fists pounded towards her. She managed to block the first two strikes, but his next strike snapped the staff in half, and the second blow knocked her right back to the ground again. 

“Okay, Sensei!” Ron shouted with false bravado, nervously clapping his hands together. “Great game and all, but uh--”

Sensei caught the fallen pieces of wood and launched himself into the air, the splintered ends of the wood aimed at Kim's head. 

“Sensei?” Ron squeaked, his eyes widening. 

No signs of Sensei stopping as he rocketed down.

A flash of blue.

Suddenly two blue-tinged hands were clutching onto the wood inches above Kim's head. Sensei looked up, his eyes finally unearthing themselves from underneath his droopy eyebrows. Ron’s brown, friendly eyes that Sensei had grown accustomed to over the past two years were now sapphire and angry. 

Ron tossed the halves of the pole off to the side, and then smashed both of his fists into the ground. His legs swung up, nailing Sensei in the chest, sending him rocketing across the campus. Thankfully, one of the bamboo walls halted his flight, but wasn’t strong enough to stand tall and collapsed on top of Sensei. 

“Oops,” Ron sighed as he slumped over, the blue glow around him fading. He felt a familiar touch brush against his right shoulder. He looked up and saw Kim looking at him with that understanding gaze of hers. 

“Ron?”

**Hana Pond: Yamanouchi, Japan  
July 14, 2007: 5:02PM**

“I messed up, KP,” Ron sighed, watching the clean water wash over his feet. He looked over to his right, waiting for a response from Kim. Usually she was a bit faster on the uptake, this time she was looking off into space. Ron looked away from her quietly, gazing back into the river, the same stream that he had brought his adopted sister to after Sensei dropped the “Han is the ultimate weapon bomb.” He felt the same way that he did that day; burdensome and disappointed. 

“We all make mistakes, Ron,” Kim responded finally, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Sensei was hoping for a reaction from you.”

“You think?”

“Yes, Ron,” Kim replied, turning to face him. “He needs to know just how powerful you are, now he does.”

“You're probably right,” he mused, getting to his feet and stepping into the stream only ankle deep in water. “KP, maybe we should—uh...how do I say this?” he asked himself, rubbing the back of his neck, looking up at the overcast sky. 

“We're not breaking up, Ron,” Kim replied flatly.

“But Kim!” Ron started, turning towards her, hands in the air. “This has happened before! And it's only happened when you're in danger. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but y'know, I...I care about you, KP. You're my whole world, and whenever something bad happens, I start freak fighting, I--” 

 

“Ron,” Kim interrupted, her voice sharp. He paused, looking at her, a little hurt. Kim held her disapproving frown for the moment, and then let it sink into a smile. “You just have to learn to control your power. It's going to be okay.” 

“I dunno, KP. You’re about to go across the world for college to do——ehhhhh…” Ron groaned. He wasn’t supposed to bring that up. At the end of summer, Kim was flying to Europe for college at a prestigious university, but with an undeclared major. It was weird. KP always had a plan. It was weird that she was leaving so much behind to do the “to be announced.” 

Kim frowned. Ron quickly recovered.

“And I’m going to Lowerton Community College to also——ehhhh!” Ron joked. He flashed a smile. Kim forced one back. Good enough. “I’m just worried what it will be like using my powers when you’re gone.”

Kim got up and stepped to where Ron was in the stream, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Silence. She was hoping for some joke about how evil monkeys are for bringing him into this monkey magic situation. 

“Kim,” Ron started, his voice quavering. “I hurt them. Warmonga and Warhok, I really hurt them. They're gone now, and I—wow, I sentenced them.”

They had never gone in-depth into the Lowardian Sitch. She knew what happened to the two warlords, she saw the explosion the ship made when it connected with the two alien bodies. But he had looked so calm after the boom; she had always assumed it was a non-issue for him. Regardless, it was something that was doomed to eventually come up, and it was not going to be a fun conversation. 

“Ron, you did what you had to do. You had to take out a ship that was about to crash into the Earth. A lot of people would have been hurt--”

“KP, stop. Please,” Ron sighed, “You're only saying that because it's me, I know how you feel about the whole killing thing.”

Kim stepped away from Ron, surveying the waterfall yards away from them. She knew how they could have gotten around it, but was it the right time to say? No but she couldn’t just not tell him. “If we had more time, we could have maybe used those alien walkers to our advantage. Drakken's plants could have made a trip-line between walkers, making a giant net for the ship to pass through, hopefully it would be enough to at least slow it down into a non-explosive entry.”

Kim folded her arms together and frowned. Ever since what happened with the Lowardians went down it had been really tough. Things changed fast. Because of Ron’s newfound powers, they have been tasked with so many more missions. All of them were so much more intense than anything Drakken or Dementor had thrown at them. One week they’re handling hostage situations in New York, the next week they’re undercover spies in a war. Getting Ron up to speed had been so hard. His relationship with Kim made it even more complicated. Maybe it would be easier if they weren’t together? No. She was being selfish. This was hard on her too but she had to be strong for her Ron. 

Kim tensed up, suddenly noticing the hurt expression of Ron’s face. She did it again.

“But Drakken was out of sight, and I was unconscious. It was you versus two aliens who could give Steel Toe and Pain King a run for their money. There weren't many options left,” Kim forced a smile.

Ron looked to the water; he hadn't even considered any of that. He could only remember wanting to save Kim. Now it all seemed so obvious.

“Hey, what about that 'Great Blue' Warmonga was looking for?” Ron asked, granting the Great Blue the honor of air quotes. “We could have helped them find him in exchange for leaving us alone.”

Kim spun around, one fist in the air. “One,” Kim started, raising her index finger. “I doubt they had good intentions with that search, and two,” she raised a second finger up. “Ron, you're probably The Great Blue they were talking about.”

Blink. Blink.

“What--”

Twitch. Blink.

“Ooooooooh! Why didn't anybody tell me?!” Ron screamed, clutching his head. “Man, I thought that—wow. I'm the guy they were looking for? And I threw them into a spaceship? Some welcoming!”

“Ron!” Kim said, her voice slightly raised. Ron quieted down. “Killing is bad, and there's almost always a way around it. But that day there wasn't, and you saved the world. And that's good, now we just need to figure out your powers so something like that doesn't happen again.”

Ron nodded his head slowly, lowering himself onto a rock sticking out of the water. “If I was The Great Blue, how come they didn't realize that was me?” Ron pointed out.

“Uh, maybe because Warmonga mistook Drakken’s shampoo ad to be the makings of The Great Blue. These guys weren't the brightest we've ran into,” Kim snarked, sitting on a nearby rock across Ron. Finally, she could relax. She knew how to work this part of Ron. 

“Yeah,” Ron said, smiling at his girlfriend. “We haven't heard from Drakken in a while,” he noted matter-of-factly. “Wonder what he's up to. Probably some take over the world vanity project.”

“Ron,” Kim rolled her eyes, “Drakken and Shego are reformed. You saw the U.N. Conference.” 

Drakken and Shego. Proof why heroes shouldn't kill people. Sure, they had fought for years against one another as arch-foes, but now they had finally had their change of heart. They saved the world, and they had the resources to continue doing that. They had been off the grid for the past few months but they were probably taken a vacation from everything. Although with everything that had been happening lately, it would be really nice to have them fighting alongside Team Possible…

“Oh come on, KP,” Ron sighed, beginning to list off their crimes, raising a digit for each act of evil. “Canceled Naco Night, tried to steal Christmas, stole Felix's wheelchair, uh...he melted that cheese covered building.” 

“Oh Golly No!” Kim interrupted in her best Wisconsin drawl, “That building was actually made out of pure Wisconsin Swiss,” Kim explained, remembering the Cheese Flood incident too well.

“No way! That's even worse! Cheese is not just something you can waste, KP.”

“Riiiiight, you need it to drench all of your Nacos.”

“Exactly!” Ron cried out, “Thank you! Someone finally gets me.”

Kim laughed. That was her Ron. There was a bumpy road ahead, what with all the training Sensei had for them, but for now, they could rest. So not the drama. 

~*^KP^*~

“Through Big Daddy Brotherson, we were able to find great connections to other businesses, and we learned some great silly games to use as training exercises!”

“Nyeh…”

“ _It Was a Tuesday_ tested really well with audiences for your memoir.”

“Ooh! Nyergh. Mm…”

“And the money we got from the Drakkanada copyright went to—”

“We sold that?!”

**Drakken's Lair: The Atlantic Ocean  
July 15, 2007: 6:13AM**

Drakken looked up from his blueprints and stared at his longtime Villainy Consultant, Hank Perkins, credited with such delightful schemes such as Hank’s Gourmet Cupcakes. Getting the Peace Prize from the U.N. had been such a drag. No more thievery…er…outsourcing of equipment for this bad doctor anymore. 

Everything had to be done legit, meaning he had to bring the temp guy back in. Hank Perkins had done wonders for Drakken before so he seemed like a good fit. Although Hank didn’t fully understand Drakken’s so-called vision. 

“Well, Doctor Demenz offered us a three million dollar deal for the name,” Hank chirped up without being fazed. 

“Demenz?!” Drakken cried out. “He knew if I couldn’t rename it Drakkanada then there was no point in me taking over that country! Think Hank!” Drakken slumped over the table before him. On it was a hologram of the evil lair he currently resided in. It looked like a giant lantern. The new lair was built at the bottom of the ocean. Drakken glared at the project, then looked up to Hank. 

“The whole point of this scheme is to annihilate the East Coast!” Drakken cried out. 

“Well, by our estimations, the United States has more value to us than Canada, we just have to go back to our mission statement and rethink--”

“I WANT DRAKKANADA!” Drakken screamed, kicking the table. Immediately, he started rubbing his temple. 

This was it. The time to shine.

Carl, our mook friend from the bar, looked away from his monitor and over to Drakken. He had heard about the Drakkanada sale at the water cooler the previous day and you wouldn’t believe how long it had took him to think of a good Drakken pun. 

“What about Kazdrakkenstan?“ Carl asked casually, knowing that it was an awesome name for a country. 

“Ooh!” Drakken cried out as visions of grandeur immediately filled his brain. 

“Sorry, Carl, but you have to be in the Writer’s Guild of Mooks to work above-the-line here,” Hank said coolly. 

Carl forced a smile and nodded. He should’ve known. Hank always had a workaround to everything. 

Hank smiled at Carl a little too long. Something felt off. Carl raised his eyebrow at Hank and at that moment he finally saw Hank break that precious character of his. 

No one else saw it, but Hank narrowed his eyes and that friendly smile turned into an evil smirk. Hank knew what Carl was up to. Blast you, Hank. Leave it to the temp to ruin everything.

“Oh another union thing?” Drakken moaned. “Fine.” 

Meanwhile, the doors to the meeting room slid open. A hunched over Shego, wrapped up in a bathrobe, passed by the center table, and went straight for the coffee pot. Drakken watched her eagerly with a smile as she passed through, hoping she would say “Good morning, Dr. D!” for once. 

The U.N. thing had probably hit Shego more than anyone. She couldn’t find any freelance work anymore now that the whole world knew her part in the world saving scheme. Both she and Drakken needed to prove just how bad they really were by doing what they do worst: Getting back at Kim Possible and her…buffoon…for working with them to save the world. And maybe conquering Europe. 

Seeing Shego gave Drakken confidence. He raised his hand over the hologram of the generator, and then looked to his mook colleagues. “And now, my friends, I present to you our greatest triumph!”

“Drakken, these guys gotta take a lunch break soon,” Hank said, pointing at his watch.

“But they’re not Union!” Drakken cried out.

“Stevens is,” Hank frowned. They needed Union guys so they could get money from everyone’s dues, but it definitely had caused some problems. 

Stevens, a longtime member of Drakken’s, finger-gunned at the bad doctor, “Sorry, Doctor D-Diggity-Dawg.”

Drakken shook his head. “We’ve gotta lose Stevens. Anyways, world domination yadda yadda reigning supreme blah blah all that but she’s not.”

Drakken slammed on the hologram and a brilliant tidal wave burst from the generator. It surged across the ocean waters, coming in fast towards the East Coast, but before it made contact it puttered away into nothingness. 

Drakken blinked and threw his hands in the air, about to erupt into one of his infamous tantrums when something amazing happened.

Shego passed by Drakken, tossing her now empty mug towards the thug at the sink. Still fatigued from her night's rest, her eyes remained half-open as she neared the table. She poked the blueprints of the generator, and dragged one piece of the scanned image to a lower part of the machine. Her hand rose and smacked down on the hologram. This time, the wave it generated was reading at a solid 9.6. 

The devastation the coastline suffered was brilliant.

“Good call, Shego! High-five!” Drakken exclaimed proudly, raising one hand, all five fingers splayed out when—

Nothing. As usual, he was left hanging. Not surprising.

“Can we turn the heat up, Dr. D? It's freezing in here,” Shego groaned.

“Uh, Shego,” Drakken replied, twiddling his fingers. “Heat's expensive, and--”

SLAM! 

“Oh, now she has to go off and make a scene.” Drakken smacked his hand against his forehead, all heads turned to him. “Don’t you have a lunch break or something?”

Stevens wiped his forehead. “Phew, for a second there, I thought I was going to have to dock you a meal penalty—“ Drakken immediately turned, his icy gaze burrowing into Stevens’ mind. “Um, hah, yeah, that was a joke, I would never, um…”

Stevens trailed off, walking away to lunch with the other mooks. Hank looked at them, then took a step closer to Drakken, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Can I offer you some advice?”

“No,” Drakken grunted, gently removing Hank from his shoulder.

“The greatest barrier to success is the fear of failure. Your issue with Shego, if I may, sir, is you let her fall out of line. Treat her like the Chief Operating Officer of Random Mayhem that she is and you act like the Executive of Evil that you are, and you could really get her to--” 

Drakken opened his mouth to say something when he spotted a better opportunity: that one mook. What’s his name again?

“Oh, Brian!” Drakken called out. All of the minions turned around; they were used to not being called by their real names. “Um,” Drakken blinked. “The guy who came up with Kazdrakkenstan.”

Carl stepped forward. “No problem, sir. The name’s Carl.”

“Charles?” Drakken asked, raising an eyebrow. _I didn't know we had a Charles…_

“Carl.”

“Robert?” 

“Carl.”

“Hm. Nice to meet you, Jimmy,” Drakken hurried, “Walk with me. Talk with me.” 

The two turned around and headed towards the door. Carl turned around at the last second and narrowed his eyes, offering a smirk to Hank. Hank’s posture finally snapped as the hungry little temp hunched over, grinding his teeth like some kind of monster. The metal door slid open and shut behind Carl and Drakken as they entered a new wing of the evil lair. 

**The West Wing: Drakken’s Lair  
July 15, 2007: 6:17AM**

The two emerged into an open space, a hallway that wrapped around the entirety of the base. A glass wall separated them from the outside world, giving them an amazing view of the ocean floor around them. Not far out enough for the ocean to drop into the Abyssopelagic level; they got to look at pleasant blue waters.

“How am I doing?” Drakken asked, resting an arm against the glass.

“With what?” Carl asked plainly. Super villainy was a tough job and held a lot of pressures; people who ticked off their bosses usually ended up facing death rays or unknown trap doors.

“Y'know...” Drakken started, his teeth grinding. “Eeeeeevil...” he muttered, trying to be discreet. 

“Oh! Oh! I...” Carl shouted, catching his volume and bringing it down. “Yeah, boss, you're completely evil. I'm shaking, really!” 

“That's good,” the bad doctor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Shego always throws me off, not that I'm interested in her, mind you.”

“Of course,” Carl said dryly. 

“I'm glad we're on the same understanding, Jimmy.” Drakken turned to face the glass again.

“It's Carl,” Carl uttered with aggression. Not usual for Carl. Drakken turned back, his right eyebrow arched upwards. 

“Ah, I'm enlightened,” Drakken drawled, walking past Carl. “That was fun and all, but I think I left my Bunsen burner on at the lab.” 

The doors slid open and Drakken took his first step back into the meeting room.

_This is your chance, Carl. C'mon. Speak up._

“You know what would be really evil, boss?” Carl asked, forcing a smirk that was very unlike him onto his face.

The doors snapped shut. 

“What?” Drakken asked, looking back to Carl.

“What if you set up two earthquake generators, but the one here was a dud?” Carl explained, his arms crossed.

“What--” Drakken started. 

“Bring Kim Possible and the Buffoon here, then set off the actual generator where it will hit them the hardest.”

“Um...Global Justice Headquarters?” Drakken stuttered, his body tensing up. 

“No. Middleton, Colorado, y'know, where the two of them live. Hide it in one of your timeshare labs.”

A very heavy pause passed between them. Drakken wasn't sure how to react. On one hand, he wasn't aware that his men were capable of stringing together a sentence. On the other hand, the plan was so deliciously twisted. On the other other hand, there was a way to go about doing these things. And this was a little...dark.

“What is wrong with you?” Drakken finally spat at Carl, fuming. “Sicko! Lure them all the way here just to destroy Middleton?” He whipped out his phone, beginning to dial a number. “I'm getting you a therapist, kid!”

“But it's not a bad idea,” a cold, female voice replied. From around the corner came Shego, geared up in her uniform, plasma radiating off of her hands. “I like it. Sure it's dark, but it gets the job done. What do you think, Dr. D?”

“No way,” Drakken pouted. He looked from Carl to Shego warily. They both looked pretty confident in the new plan. “Oh come on!”

“It's a good plan,” Carl sneered.

“Alright, you're doing way too much talking,” Shego muttered and threw a plasma bolt at the goon. He jumped backwards, narrowly evading the blast that knocked chunks out of the floor. 

“But--” Carl started.

“See, the reason I get away with it is because he has a crush on me.” “I do not!” “Shut it. You? Last time I checked, Dr. D doesn't have a thing for gross looking ape-men. Now do one hundred laps around the base,” Shego said. Her eyes narrowed and the goon was suddenly out of there, running as fast as his legs could carry him. 

While completely breaking the spirit of Kim Possible and the buffoo—Ron Stoppable, in addition to probably killing them afterwards, was something that he definitely did not want to accomplish as an evil minion, it was his out. The job would be over, there would be no more reason to keep fighting. He could leave. He could rebuild his family.

The nightmare was almost over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim and Ron make a talk show appearance. Meanwhile, Drakken works more on his "going legit" angle.

“So, how has the Lowardian Invasion affected what you two do?”

“Well, uh…you know…”

“No I don’t know, that’s why I asked.”

**The Nonan Show Set: Los Angeles, California  
July 16, 2007: 4:33PM**

The audience laughed and whistled as Noan leaned in towards Kim, a mischievous look in his eyes, cheek resting on his open palm.

Kim blinked at him, a little uncomfortable. It was really weird being on a talk show. Not that she hadn’t done them before, but Nonan was something else. He had been on the air for twenty two years but no one had really noticed him until Conan decided to call it quits. Now it was Nonan time, or at least he thought it was.

“I mean, we’ve been doing a lot of work with Global Justice,” Kim said, forcing a smile, giving a gentle nod to Ron, who sat beside her on the couch.

Ron didn’t seem to notice though. He looked as content as could be, staring off with a blank smile into the audience observing them. 

Kim looked back, her smile fading as she waited for Nonan’s next move.

Catching that Kim didn’t really want to go too much further into their new line of work with Global Justice, Nonan recalculated and leaned back in his chair.

“So, aliens, huh?”

“Yep!” Kim said with a halfhearted cheer, “They’re…something.”

“I’d imagine that was probably the most difficult opponent you’d ever been up against right?” Nonan said, somehow smugly. “But hey, can’t be too difficult when you’re going around turning into a Magic Monkey, right?”

“Me?” Kim clarified, pointing at herself. He nodded, and while his smile told the tale of an eager, confident man, she could see the exasperation in his eyes. “I’m not the—that’s Ron’s thing.” Kim said, turning to Ron, who was still spaced out.

“Oh, I—” Nonan started, taking a quick peek into the notes on his lap, “I—okay, wait, him? HE’S the one who turns into the magic monkey?!”

Kim bit her lip as suddenly all sound drained from the room, replaced by the squish of shifting cushions on the couch.

Next to Ron, a stout man, Nonan’s cohort, Randy Ichter, poorly stifled his laughter as he (very) slowly crept away from Ron on the couch, continuously flashing him looks that said, “Ah! Get me away from him!”

Nonan looked over at the camera girl glumly. The girl in charge of Nonan’s Medium Shot was panning along with Randy, tracking his movement. Noonan gave her a “What gives?” kind of gesture and the camera girl only shrugged in return.

Once the bit was over, Nonan jabbed a finger at Randy. “Randy, that was a tired routine and very hacky, that’s gotta stop man.” Randy frowned and looked down into his lap. A few seconds after Nonan started speaking again, he shuffled back next to Ron as if nothing had happened.

“Alright, we’re gonna have to cut that part out guys,” Nonan muttered to himself as he glanced back at his notes.

“Sorry, I—” Kim started.

“Nah, it’s fine, blame Randy…” Nonan said, trying to be professional.

“We could talk about the charity we’re endorsing…” Kim suggested. Nonan looked up at him, slack jawed, suddenly looking very old. Then his eyes narrowed, he seemed to have noticed something.

“You’re going to college, right?” Nonan asked, smiling. “Where at?”

“Oh, I’m going to the University of Oxford,” Kim replied.

“Wow, nice!” Nonan said, uncomfortably punching Kim’s shoulder. “And what are you majoring in?”

Kim cringed a little. This wasn’t going to go over well.

“I’m—not—not too sure yet,” Kim said, trying to play it off with laughter. Nonan frowned.

“You don’t know what you’re majoring in? Hey, better than majoring in comedy, AM I RIGHT RANDY?!” Nonan laughed. Randy was still looking into his lap. He didn’t hear the great yuck Nonan had pitched forward. Nonan gritted his teeth with a smile and said, “You’re not going to do criminal justice?”

“No,” Kim said. She wanted to say she felt like that might be a little bit too much of the same for her but she didn’t want to offend anyone.

“I mean, you got criminals, especially Drakken—” Nonan started.

“Drakken’s not a criminal. He quit that a while ago,” Kim said firmly, interjecting some energy into things for the first time that show.

“Riiiiiiiiight,” Nonan smiled, “But like, you got criminals breaking out of jail all the time, I’m sure it gets annoying, wouldn’t you want to do something about it?”

While Nonan went on his mini-rant, Kim looked out at the audience. She could barely see anything. The way the room was lit, the studio audience formed up into one giant black blob. The heat of the lights was also starting to get to her.

“Yeah, no, I get that,” Kim said, “I mean, I—I think that, well, college is a, y’know…”

Nonan shook his head and gave a time out signal to the cameras. The lights suddenly all went out, leaving just enough of a glimmer for the four of them to see each other.

“Testing, 1 2 3…” Nonan muttered into his microphone. Nothing. They had been turned off. He looked up at Kim. “I get that you guys are under a lot of pressure right now, the Global Justice people briefed me that I got to be careful with you guys…”

“Hey, KP! Is the show over?” Ron asked suddenly, tugging on Kim’s sleeve. She looked back at him, a little annoyed that he had waited until just now to come back to Earth.

“But I need a 30 minute show out of you two,” Nonan said, “We go on air in 3 hours.”

“I know, sorry,” Kim sighed. Ron peered over her shoulder, wondering what he could do.

“We’ll cut the other stuff,” Nonan listed, thinking out loud more than anything. “Monkey man doesn’t work when it’s the weird dude, and the college thing is bad, we could—”

“What’s wrong with the college sitch?” Kim asked, her anger returning. 

Nonan looked at her in dull surprise, he gave a quick look to Randy who shrugged. 

Ron winced and leaned farther into the couch, avoiding eye contact with Nonan.

“Kim,” Nonan sputtered, “I—the Fearless Ferret! Right? Did the Fearless Ferret stop doing his Fearless Ferret thing as an old man? No! He found a new ferret he could mentor! Two Fearless Ferrets!”

“Um, I mean, Timothy North was just an actor—” Kim started.

“Yeah but he persevered, look, look, media analysis think piece time, okay?” Nonan asked, waiting for an affirming nod from the head of Team Possible. “Heroes. Don’t. Stop.” Nonan nodded, gesturing as if he had just finished a great closing argument.

“Like,” Nonan started, looking up at the ceiling for inspiration. “People don’t want to hear their world savior is taking time off to goof off in college. It’s weird!”

Nonan squinted for a second, “Hey! Monkey kid! You got something, right?”

Kim looked over at Ron, whom she hadn’t noticed slouching next to her. He had a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Come on, you got something! Tell us straight, what do you think about the college thing?” Nonan asked.

Ron looked up at Kim nervously, not sure if he should really say what was on his mind. 

And just like that, _Beep-beep-be-beep!_

Saved by the bell.

“What’s the sitch, Wade?” Kim asked, immediately putting her game face on.

“Dementor’s taken one of Drakken’s old bases and word is he’s stock piling a butt load of weapons,” Wade said.

“Ron, we gotta go,” Kim said, standing up immediately. “Oh, um…sorry Nonan.”

“Wh—wh—” Nonan said, getting to his feet as well, shaking. “But this is the Kim Possible episode, we go on air in a few hours!” Nonan said, nearly in tears. It was Nonan time; he needed this.

“Hey, Rufus can help out. He’s a talented man” Ron said, offering Nonan his favorite naked mole rat buddy. Nonan eyed Rufus for a long time and eventually gave into that begrudging frown of respect.

“You want me to improv comedian my way out of this with a naked mole rat?” Nonan asked. “Well, I’ve done shows with Dane Cook so I think I’ll be okay! Ha!” he cried out, smashing his table with his elbow, and then punching the air followed by an uppercut “Still got it.”

~^*KP*^~

“So we love the title.”

“Great. Good! Yes.”

“But the overall direction…could use some work.”

**Good Literature Publishing: New York, New York  
July 16, 2007: 10:06 AM**

Drakken sat across the table from several executives and agents. Surrounding them were even more assistants, all scribbling notes. Drakken had his own little army alongside him: Hank Perkins, Shego, and several of his goons. 

And they had a chart. Hank always had them bring charts. This one had an arrow going up over time. 

“What do you mean by direction?” Drakken asked a little cross. 

“We think that your book is nice…but…it’s a little too…” started the lead agent, a twenty five year old guy with a lot of pep. “…nice. You’re a bad guy!” 

Part of the “going legit” deal involved making money through actual means. So what better method than writing a book based on the story of his crazed life and selling it to the masses? Hank took the liberty of hiring a ghost writer in place of Drakken because the bad doctor spent an entire chapter talking about that time in the 4th Grade where he created a ray gun that allowed him to control rubber products, making him the undefinable champion in four square and tetherball, definitely his proudest moment.

Regardless, Drakken was so excited to be there. He went out and bought a slick suit for the occasion, casting aside his usual lab-coat for the first time in a while. 

Drakken frowned, “But I saved the world! I…kept the spirit of Snowman Hank alive! I—I sold so many wonderful cupcakes to so many people!” Drakken shouted. Hank put a hand on Drakken’s shoulder.

“We’re more interested in hearing about your global conquest…y’know, when you nearly took over the world with a legion of evil robots,” the agent sighed. 

“Oh,” Drakken grumbled. “I forgot about that…”

Hank leaned forward. 

“We understand that, but _It Was a Tuesday_ is a story about redemption,” Hank smiled, talking through his teeth. “Readers love an underdog!”

“That’s why we have _Schindler’s List_ ,” the agent sighed back.

“Great movie!” one of the goons said with his arms crossed. Drakken and Hank shot him a glance. The goon ignored it; he had already spaced out thinking about how good _Schindler’s List_ is. A tear fell from his cheek.

“People like bad guys,” the agent said. “Write about how you made your Moodulator technology. That will guarantee sell a book!” 

“Actually that technology was stolen,” Shego sighed as she filed her nails.

“OUTSOURCED!” Drakken and Hank shouted at Shego. 

“Hey,” that one goon started, “Remember the scene when Schindler was upset because he still had buttons—”

“You know what!?” Hank piped up, “You’re right. We’ll change the angle of the book.”

“Hank!” Drakken cried out, absolutely bewildered. 

The agent finally smiled, noting the tension between Hank and Drakken. He leaned his chin up against both his hands and smiled an impish grin. “Let’s take five. You two should talk.”

**Good Literature Publishing Hallway: New York, New York  
July 16, 2007: 10:06 AM**

Drakken sighed as he stared at a reflection of himself off of the windows at Good Literature Publishing. He was feeling pretty down. Also, did he really have that spinach in his teeth that whole time? He didn’t even realize he ate spinach. He knew something was fishy about the cafeteria food…

“Hey, bucko, how you doing?” Hank asked with that slimy demeanor of his, throwing an arm around Drakken.

“I liked the draft we have,” Drakken whimpered, turning to face Hank. 

“Well, Chief,” Hank sighed, looking down at Drakken for a second. “We’re gonna have to do it their way if we want to make the money we need for…you know…” 

Drakken grunted and looked out the window again. 

“I’d rather sell the version we have,” Drakken said more firmly. Hank stared back at him, throwing his hand behind his neck.

“Very funny, Drakken,” Hank laughed, clapping Drakken on the back. “Look, all we have to do is get you to ramble about your evil exploits to our ghost writer. You love talking about yourself!” 

“Look, Hank, I—“ Drakken started, very angry. This needed to end now. This plan was way off-kilter. It was so dark, he needed more time to think it over, to figure out if this was really the right approach.

“Like hey! How about the time you took over Bueno Nacho and while you were trimming the budget, customers had the gall to complain about you getting rid of the bendy straws!” Hank said with a knowing look. 

Drakken froze. Ooh. That did make him angry. 

“Agh, the worst! What kind of country do we live in where we need straws to bend towards us?! Why not just bend towards the straw? These people have no idea how to run a fast food business!” 

“See? Now just do that in the room and we’ll be sold!” Hank said, offering a fist bump to Drakken. Still working on being “hip,” Drakken slapped Hank’s hand as if it were aiming for a high-five.

Hank cringed and walked back into the meeting room. Drakken lingered for a moment, staring out the window again.

Guess that’s it. There was no turning back now. Just had to push forward the way he was. 

There was no way he would be able to get that spinach out of his teeth in time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim & Ron take on Dementor. Meanwhile, Shego and Hank go to a meet-up with Big Daddy Brotherson.

"Hey, KP, can we talk?”

“Now’s not really a good time, Ron.”

“Aw c’mon, KP, we do this kind of thing all the time during missions.”

“…okay, that's fair, what's up?”

**Drakken's Old Place: Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean  
July 16, 2007: 10:04PM**

Kim and Ron were both crouched behind a makeshift barricade made out of a turned over table in the final lair of Dr. Drakken. Surrounding them were a myriad of Professor Dementor’s goons, all of them armed with plasma rifles. Bolts of energy tore through the war zone.

“A few months ago, during the Lowardian Invasion,” Ron started, ducking low behind the table. Kim cast a quick look over the table then back to Ron. “I said I was scared and you said you were scared too.”

Kim bit her lip, then took another quick look over the table, trying to find an opening. Dementor’s goon had them almost completely surrounded. 

She remembered that moment. Ron had this awful “center will not hold” theory that Barken had really pushed on him. The prospects of his future were pretty bad, but despite her growing pile of college acceptances and the acclaim behind her name alone, she was pretty scared too.

“Ron, I don’t think this is a good time to talk about this,” Kim grimaced, her voice shaky. “We need to stop Dementor first.”

Ron frowned and looked down. He already knew what this meant; they weren’t going to talk about it, even on the flight home. But that didn’t matter right now, KP was right. They had a world to save. He looked back up, determined. “Okay, my head’s in the game. What’s the sitch?”

Kim peeked over the table again. “First, we need a way to breac—” 

Before Kim could finish her sentence, a red energy blast soared right over the table and smashed Kim right in the jaw. The force of it sent Kim rolling several yards backwards. She recovered fast, getting to her feet quickly but it was too late. All of the goons had locked their sights onto her. 

Ron got up to his feet to help, but a barrage of red light passed by him, almost creating a wall between the two of them. He stepped back, narrowing his eyes to get a better view. He heaved a sigh of relief as Kim danced around the area, doing some fancy jumps and spins that could get her a victory at the Cheer Regionals any day of the week. 

Did they have cheer leading in college, maybe that was the issue?

Ron looked to the gallery of goons to his left and waved his arms at them frantically. “Heeeeey! I’m open!” he shouted desperately. One of them cast him a quick glance then waved his hand at him as if to say “As if!”

Ron threw his arms down in frustration and groaned, then rolled forward into the flurry of lasers, moving much more swiftly than he was used to two months ago. He had to move ahead carefully, only able to take a step every few seconds.

He heard a grunt come from Kim several yards away from him. He looked up from his careful footwork to find her falling backwards, having been hit in the head again. She landed hard on her back. As she hit the ground, he could feel a massive THUMP in his heart. 

The goons all stopped firing away with their lasers and charged at them like a stampede of wildebeest. Once again, all of them swarmed to Kim and Ron once again found himself walled off from Kim. 

He grabbed onto one goon in front of him who couldn’t see him by the neck and tried pulling him down. The goon spun around, knocking Ron off of him just as fast. The duo glared at each other hungrily. Ron couldn’t help but shoot a quick glance to Kim.

He couldn’t see her among the horde of goons but he could hear the victorious sounds of her fighting them off. That had to be good enough for now. He looked back to his goon to notice just in time that the goon had taken the initiative to charge at him, which quickly put Ron on the defensive.

The goon wouldn’t let up, throwing punch after punch. All Ron could afford to do was block him at every turn. After one particular heavy swing from the goon that gave Ron a good grip on both of the big guy’s arms, Ron looked back to Kim’s fight and saw her stumble out of the circle, holding her head in pain. He bit his lip and looked back to the goon and went on the offense, starting by launching a somersault kick at the goon’s face that landed perfectly. 

Ron's heart pounding, he kicked and kicked, not letting up, pushing the goon farther and farther back. All the while, he could feel that all too familiar mystical energy surge through him. 

A blue flash.

 _No not now,_ he thought just as he found himself going for a kick to the side of the man’s head, the blow that would surely end the fight. _Kim doesn’t want me to do this._

Ron reached out his with hands and grabbed his leg just before impact with the goon and pulled hard on it.

“C’mon, hold it together, Ron!” Ron cried out as the goon blinked at him in confusion. Ron pulled hard on his leg like he would to a finishing line and found himself somersaulting backwards, completely out of control. The magic had fueled him with too much energy; he couldn’t stop. 

But after eight skips, he found himself firmly planted on his feet. He patted his head quickly, hoping it would calm down his powers. He looked up to see the goon rushing at him like a rhino. Feeling the power relaxing, he rolled right under the guy and kicked him square in the chest, sending him sprawling on the floor. 

Finally, one guy down. He looked over to Kim’s group and saw at least five down, and that was with the blockade shielding most of his view. He rolled his eyes and launched a flying kick at the first goon he could see, successfully knocking him straight to the floor. 

Ron landed with finesse and rubbed his chest with his knuckle, “Have a nice fall dude, see you next—wait—” Ron started but before he knew it, another goon had grabbed him by the shirt and lobbed him across the room. “OH IT’S TRIP! HAVE A NICE TRI—”

KER-THUNK.

Ron’s head smashed up against the table he was previously hiding behind. Pain thundered through his whole body as he collapsed into a heap. He tried looking again, but it was hard to make anything out, everything was so blurry…were the goons multiplying?

A red mane of hair was tossed out of the giant gray shape, pretty low to the ground…

“KP!” Ron shouted.

Ron jumped up to his feet, clutching onto his head, leaning against the table for support. His heart was beating like a drum now, the Monkey Power returning to him fast. 

_No, no, I can’t—not again. For KP._

Ron shut his eyes, trying to focus, he could feel the power surging through him inside, like butterflies in his stomach. Trying to force it down was going to be almost impossible, but he had to.

To his right, he could feel the table lifting off of the ground, his powers interfering with the gravity around him. He tried pushing it back to the floor, as if it would help quell his power, but it did nothing.

Giving up on the gravity, he took one step forward, and as he did so, one goon stepped out from the crowd and placed a gun against Kim’s head. The standard red light changed to an eerie green one.

“Oh, not cool, dude!” Ron shrieked as he charged towards the guy with reckless abandon, the power that was he was trying to seal away suddenly flooding through him. The pain in his head faded fast, he felt as light as a feather but with the force of a titan.

“HEY!” Dementor shouted amongst all the hubbub. “He has ze Mystical Monkey Power! Shoot him! Schnell! Schnell!” 

Ron stopped in place just as all the lasers got retargeted onto him.

“Okay, so NOW you want to shoot me!” Ron cried out in frustration. 

All at once, the Goons fired off their lasers, the red blasts creating a massive white haze in front of him. Like a deer in headlights.

Not having enough time to bust a move like Kim did, Ron braced himself for impact. But he felt nothing. He gave it another second and checked his body real quick. He—felt fine, at least. Looking up, his eye shot open. The lasers had all stopped in front of him, floating in a blue energy field that must have materialized around him when he wasn’t looking. The way the lasers floated about in the barrier reminded him of fish.

And then one by one, each of the lasers disintegrated into the aura, each disintegration giving him a new surge of power. As the final laser bit the dust, Ron smirked at the goons. 

“Booyah.”

Ron charged across the room, ducking down as he surged past, the ground cracking beneath his feet as he passed though. He could see all of the goons prepping themselves for a fight. 

Ron ran right into the clutches of the head goon, stopping in a crouch below him, then flipped upward, feet first, kicking the man in the neck. The man fell backwards and was out just like that. As Ron got back to his feet, he felt something pass through his aura. His right hand went out for a block and he felt a fist land in his open hand. 

The fist went for another punch. And yet, still without looking, he was able to catch the fist again. Somehow he was instinctively knew where to put his hand as the goon kept throwing punches at him. 

_This is new,_ Ron thought. 

From his left he could feel another change in his aura. This time though, he figured he would go for the offensive. Still blocking with his right hand, Ron’s legs rose up to kick someone on his left, and while he didn’t see it, he heard the grunt of pain signifying another downed goon.

Three more goons charged in just like the last and each one fell just as quickly. “Badical!” Ron cried out as he went for his final block. This time he gripped the guy by the arm and dragged him in front of Ron and like clockwork knocked the guy out with a karate chop to the back. Dusting his hands off, Ron started to say, “I’ll be here all nights boys—” but stopped as he felt two arms wrap around his waist.

Something within him told him to let this one happen, so he relaxed his body as the goon tried lifting Ron over his head. But just as Ron hit his peak, the aura around him surged, shooting Ron up like a rocket, soaring twenty feet into the air. Gracefully, he did three flips on his descent.

This was Ron’s first time ever fighting this many people while under the guide of his Monkey Power.

This was also Ron’s first time ever trying to seal away his power. 

Ron landed on the goon with a triumphant dropkick, then motioned for more to come. 

This time two goons came from his left and right. He dodged them with ease; they both went for straight punches to his sides. He spun out of the way and grabbed each of their wrists, then raised his legs and spun them fast in a helicopter kick he didn’t even know he could do and before he knew it, both goons were down. 

He did a quick scan of the room. All goons seemed to be downed. Kim was still down too. He frowned, then looked up just in time to see a red energy blast smash him in the face, but it faded away as if it was nothing.

Dementor stood before him, hands shaking on his blaster.

“Nein! Nein!” he spat out, knocking the gun into a new gear. That same eerie green light activated, and he fired another blast. But just like the last one, it did nothing.

Ron advanced on Dementor slowly, the ground cracking up at his feet. Pieces of debris rose up in the air, the gravity disturbed by his power. Ron barely took notice of it, his eyes sight on just one person. 

“Hey, look, ve could vork something out, right?” Dementor said with a cheesy grin, tossing the useless gun to the side. 

Ron shook his head. He reeled back, preparing to boot Dementor like he would a football. His aura began to fade, no, not fade, condense, around him, around his leg specifically. The muscles in his leg began to tighten, so tight that it was about to snap. 

He remembered what happened to Sensei. Slamming against the bamboo wall. A miracle that he lived.

He pictured Kim lying there unconscious on the ground.

_Eh, if Sensei lived through it, Dementor should be fiiiiine…_

He leapt forward, going for the kick when all of a sudden, two hands grabbed Dementor by the shoulders and tore him out of the way. 

Ron looked to his right to see Kim staring up at him with fearful eyes. 

“Kim?”

“Ron—”

Before either could manage a second word, a shockwave burst from Ron’s foot, tearing the floor in front of him into pieces while also knocking the three of them ten feet backwards.

The shockwave continued, obliterating everything in its path. 

The decrepit old lair immediately began to collapse in an avalanche before them, the whole half in front of them crumbling into the ocean below. 

The entire room shook as stone and metal rained down from above. Fortunately, their half that they were standing in remained fine, but the rest was not so lucky. 

By the end of it, half of the lair was gone. The trio looked out into the ocean, all slack jawed with wide eyes. Suddenly, Ron felt a tug on his shirt.

“Maybe this is bad timing,” Dementor began weakly, but suddenly looked distracted. “MYRON!”

Ron looked up to see the old lovable goon, Myron, washing himself in a bathtub. Unbeknownst to him, he was falling from the top floor all the way to the ocean below. 

“Oh vell,” Dementor sighed as they all heard the splash. “I’m sure he’s fine—ANYWAYS, I—um…I kinda rented this place out from Drakken and…”

“Oh!” Ron started, snapping back into reality. He pulled his wallet out of his cargo pants and started leafing through the dollar bills. “How much do I owe you?”

“Ron!” Kim shouted.

“What?” Ron shouted back. “Guy’s gotta pay his rent! Hey, could I borrow two bucks?”

Dementor double taked.

“How much do you think my rent is?”

~KP~

“So, as the Chief Operating Officer of Random Mayhem, what do you think of the going-ons at the company?”

“Uh…whatever.”

“Oh come on, you must have some opinion on what’s going on.”

“Yeah, you could put some more money into the heating.”

**The Bermuda Triangle Club, Cuba  
July 17, 2007: 11:34PM **

Hank grimaced, stung by Shego’s sharp remark. He nervously tugged at his bowtie as they passed by the two bouncers.

“Well, you’re gonna have to talk to Renaldo about that one,” Hank squeaked out.

“Renaldo,” Shego repeated.

“Yeah, the guy in the charge of the heatin—” Hank started, more confident this time, but as he made eye contact with Shego his sentence began to putter off. “What? If we have a heating guy, it scores us more points with the investors.”

“Riiiiiiiight,” Shego smirked, pushing the double doors open to the infamous nightclub. 

She smiled as she looked around the place. They gathered some extremely important intel here when Drakken’s biggest and most successful scheme, The Li’l Diablos, was going down. Brought back a lot of good memories. 

Looking up, she could see that they installed in a new chandelier…with some extra reinforcement. It immediately brought back vivid images of one of her favorite fights that she had with Princess…

She looked around them. Back in the old days, Team Possible would be lurking around somewhere at the night club. Seemed like they had bigger fish to fry nowadays.

“Why are we here again?” Shego asked Hank who was busy stretching out his bowtie.

“Didn’t you read the briefing?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah,” Shego said lazily, then an idea came to her. “And I think as the Chief Operating Officer of Random Mayhem, isn’t it better if I don’t read the briefings?” she smiled, intentionally bumping into Hank as she passed by him.

“Hah hah,” Hank said, straining to hold his smile. “We’re here to see if Big Daddy Brotherson is interested in any of Drakken’s old things.”

“Gotchya,” Shego grunted, surveying the room again. She couldn’t stop thinking about that night.

“You’re really unhappy here, huh?” Hank said all of a sudden. 

Shego turned to him, stunned that he had the moxie to say that. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone, but it’s just so obvious to me that you don’t care,” Hank offered.

Shego froze up for a moment, then shook her head.

“Yeah, the whole corporate angle’s not really my thing,” Shego said. “Beats Gourmet Cupcakes any day though.”

Hank smiled dreamily at the thought of those cup cakes. That job was at the tippity-top of his resume and always had a good 1-2 sentence bit in every cover letter he sent out.

“Say, what happened to those cupcakes anyways?” Hank asked curiously.

Shego remembered that awful image of Drakken in a jumpsuit storing the rest of the uneaten cupcakes in their lair, and for weeks he would chowdown on them breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She shuddered at the thought, sliding into a chair at one of the tables.

“Um…” Hank said, biting his lip. “Aren’t you going to come in with me?” 

“Nah,” Shego sighed, looking over to the jazz singer on the stage. “Hey, um, you know Big Daddy Brotherson likes—“”

“Silly games, yeah, no worries, I did my homework,” Hank smiled, puffing his chest out. “I’ll be back in a few then!”

Hank walked over to the entrance of Big Daddy Brotherson’s office, stopping in place to take a few steps back, then a few more forward, like some kind of jig. Shego hated to admit it, but Hank’s quirks were a little endearing.

Shego looked back to the jazz singer. Was it the same person from last time?

_I’m searching for someone…  
I know I can trust…_

~KP~

Fifteen minutes later, Hank returned, a gleam in his eye as he crossed through the room. Right before reaching their table, he grabbed onto one of the waitresses hands and did a quick dance-and-spin with her. He waved her goodbye and slid into the chair across Shego. 

“Sold all of it!”

“All of it?!” Shego’s blurted out, “You realize half the stuff in that lab is stolen right?

Hank blinked at her, raised a finger in protest, then paused, leaning his cheek against one of his palms. He raised a finger again, an idea striking him, but then lowered it just as fast.

“No,” Hank said flatly. “Could you—uh—point those out to me so we can not circulate those?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Shego said, looking back to the jazz singer with dreamy eyes.

“Shego, you know this is my last week, right?” Hank said, trying to come off as cool.

If Shego was a slightly more enthusiastic person who was down to own a calendar, she would have been crossing the days off leading up to the fateful day that the temp finally left the office.

“Nah,” Shego said noncommittally. 

“Yeah, weeeeeellllllll…guess who’s gonna be the new Villainy Consultant for Big Daddy Brotherson?” Hank said, his voice shaking with excitement.

“Oh!” Shego nearly jumped, “Awesome, yeah, that’s cool.”

“Mhm,” Hank sighed, casting a quick glance at the ceiling. “He also happened to mention that he was looking for a new hit-person, figured that might be up your alley, right?”

“Oh…” Shego said. She didn’t expect this. Why was Hank trying to help her out? “What’s the catch?”

“What? No catch, I just—I mean a lot of people at the offi—sorry, evil lair, have picked up on the fact that you’ve been pretty miserable lately. Moreso than usual.” Hank said a little awkwardly. “I’m not wrong, right?”

“I mean—” Shego started, pausing to collect her thoughts, which was pretty unlike her. Dropping her general ‘I don’t care’ kind of attitude, she leaned back in the chair. “Yeah, it’s been weird lately with Dr. D. And I’m not gonna lie, that Jimmy guy—”

“Carl,” Hank offered gently.

“Carl, right! Jeez, now I’m doing it,” Shego sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He’s kind of a creep, not gonna lie. And this whole thing with luring the Princess and her Buffoon to our lair just to fake them out is pretty twisted.”

“Yeah,” Hank said, going for the filler phrase so he could take a moment to think of his response; he didn’t see this coming. “Maybe this hit-man job’s not for you then.”

“Are you kidding me?! I would love to do that,” Shego said, shaking off the gloom, “I’m just too attached to the whole thing. You work with Dr. D for as long as I have and you start to get all mushy about everything.”

Hank nodded. “That’s the advantage of temping. So are you going to consider it? He said he’d take you without question.”

Shego took another moment to think, which she was really not digging. 

Taking the gig would probably be good for her. It’d get her back on her feet, and to be real, it was the sort of thing that she wanted to be doing from the start.

But that also meant leaving Drakken behind, as well as Kim and Ron—sorry, the Princess and the Buffoon, how could she forget? And there was no way she was going to keep on existing without getting her revenge on those two for humiliating her before the entire world.

“Do they have good heating there?” Shego asked.

“Eh,” Hank sighed, “To be honest, don’t tell Drew, but our heating guy is actually freelance, and he’s working this place too.”

“I am so glad you are leaving,” Shego laughed as she got out of her chair. 

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Hank sighed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim & Ron go on a mission in Yamanouchi, Japan.

“Alright, Ron, I want you on the hostage situation. I'll take care of the mob, okay?”“KP, you sure? These guys are packing, I want to be there with you.”

**The Futokka Otoko: Yamanouchi, Japan  
July 20, 2007: 9:42PM**

A dark night in Yamanouchi. Clouds loomed overhead, threatening a storm. 

Kneeling on top of a dilapidated nightclub was Team Possible. Ron was dressed in his standard mission attire, Kim in her battle suit; it was the only way she could really keep up with Ron in the missions now. The wind was blowing harshly.

“Ron, trust me. Sensei and Yori have trained you well for a hostage mission where you have to get in and out unnoticed,” Kim explained earnestly.

“KP, you're talking to the guy who always loses his pants.”

“You're not going to lose your pants. We've come a long ways from there,” Kim affirmed. _At least I hope._ “My suit will help me against the mob, but I need you to focus on getting those kids out of there.”

“Alright, if you say so, KP,” Ron accepted, crawling back to the skylight he was at to enter from. 

“Remember,” Kim said, a little nervous. “This isn't like Señor Senior Sr. or Duff Killigan; these guys are out for blood. And they're going to try to hurt us, so be really careful.”

Ron gave her a thumbs up back before proceeding through his opening in the skylight, scampering his way down a rope. He was trying to focus, but all he could think of was their conversation from the day before. 

~^*KP*^~

Slowly Ron lowered himself into the lair of the mobsters. Using his legs to support him, his hands slid off of the rope. His spine arched backwards and within a few seconds Ron was back to climbing down the rope, except now he could look straight down to see what was beneath him, which happened to be a single mobster.

Dressed in a suit and brandishing a gun in his left hand, the thug looked much more intimidating than anything Drakken or Dementor had thrown their way. Ron inhaled a deep breath of air and began rocking himself back and forth slowly on the rope, building up the momentum. 

Within two seconds, the mobster was going to pass directly below him so that’s where he needed to be in two seconds; not three seconds, not one and a half seconds. Two seconds. That’s all he had. His feet started to unclench from the gravity baring down on him more and more. 

_There you go,_ Ron thought, _Nice and easy. Kim was right. You can totally handle---_

RRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPP!

Ron was falling down from the skylight just as he desired, but a certain pair of cargo pants was left hanging up on high, caught on a hitch from his rope. The guard below him heard the high-pitched scream worthy of a soprano and looked up just in time to see Ron Stoppable’s face smash into his. 

“Wow,” Ron said in relief, “That was surprisingly effective.” He patted the goon’s cheek to see if he was still unconscious. The man’s head lolled over to the side lifelessly. “A-booyah!” 

Ron’s moment of triumph was seized as quickly as it was had; two guards’s chattering echoed down the halls. 

“ _Did you hear that?_ ” one guard asked the other in Japanese. 

In a second, their shadows twisted around the corner of the hallway.

“Oh, that is so not good.”

~^*KP*^~

Kim landed center stage of the main room of the club quietly and nimbly like a cat. She got up from her kneeling position and threw her hands on her hips. 

“Hello boys!” she said proudly. 

The goon in front of her raised his assault rifle robotically. From all over the room she could hear similar clicks from other guns. Smirking, she pressed a button on her wrist. Just as the first round of bullets began flying, a blue force field materialized around Kim. 

Each bullet that struck the force field gave off a shockwave, each strike like a gong being slammed. Her entire world around her was in disarray, the force field’s distortion like a tidal wave. Closing her eyes though, she was able to focus on what was around her. 1…2…3…4…5. Five different guys were firing away at her. 

After a full-on minute of firing, Kim could hear several guns being whipped to the concrete floor. Once she heard the last gun fall, she brought down her force field. Now that she could finally see clearly without the dark blue tinge she did a quick spin, scanning everything she could around her.

Five guys coming at her from her two, four, six, nine, and eleven. Each of them was pulling out a knife from their jacket, and each of them looked like they could take on at least ten of Drakken’s guys.

Showtime. 

~^*KP*^~

The two guards emerged from around the corner, assault rifles out and ready to go. To their surprise though, they found their good friend, Sayuri, on his feet, waving at them. Little did they know, Ron was behind the unconscious Sayuri, manipulating his body like a puppeteer. 

“ _Ah, Sayuri! Hello!_ ” the first guard shouted over. Leaning over to his comrade in arms he whispered, “What’s up with Sayuri?” 

“ _I don’t know,_ " the second guard said as he tilted his head. “ _Something’s wrong here though…Tell you what, I’m going to backtrack and knock him out from behind, while you sweet talk him. I don’t want him driving home tonight, y’know how he gets._ ”

“ _Sayuri, shouldn’t you be doing your rounds?_ ” the first guard interrupted sternly. 

Sayuri froze up, his arm falling from a wave to his head where it awkwardly stayed. 

“ _Uh, yes! It is I: Sayuri!_ ” Ron started in broken Japanse, “ _And you are right friends, I should be doing my rounds but I was distracted...by...uh...a noodle cart, that passed right through here!_ ”

“ _Sayuri!_ ” the first guard grunted, “ _You need to focus up!_ ”

“ _And your story makes no sense!_ ” the second guard, Izumi, said. “ _Why would we allow a noodle cart to pass through here?_ ”

“ _Ha, you tell ‘em._ ”

“ _Oh!_ ” Ron replied, his voice cracking. “ _Ha! Hahahaha! You got me guys! I was tying my shoe when I realized, wow, I don’t know how to do that! Took a while but I figured it out. Hehehehe._ ” As Ron finished his sentence a certain pair of cargo pants landed on Sayuri’s head. 

“ _Anyways, I’m out. See ya fellas._ ” And with that Ron turned one hundred eighty degrees to walk away from the guards, only to leave his back completely exposed to the guards. “ _Uh, pay no attention to the dude behind the other dude, dudes._ ”

“ _Intruder!_ ” the second guard screamed. Both of the guards adjusted their sights to get a steady aim on Ron and fired away, but in the time between them getting their sights and firing, Ron had disappeared.

“ _Where did he go?_ ” the first guard growled. He felt a tap on his right shoulder and looked over to see his friend, Izumi, pointing up at the air duct running across the ceiling. Listening closely, he could hear a soft pattering echoing down the duct. 

“A-booyah, the Ron dog wins again,” Ron whispered to himself, “Kim is gonna--”

Holes erupted in the duct as bullets turned it into Swiss cheese. Ron froze in his spot as the bullets danced around him. Taking in a deep breath, he waited for his moment. Lady Luck must have been holding Ron to her bosom tightly because not a single bullet even scathed him. But they did do a lot of damage to that duct, and eventually, his small section fell clean from its spot mounted on the ceiling. 

The first guard trained his gun onto the opening of the duct, ready to fire when he spotted his target. Like a lioness, Ron pounced out of the duct and landed right on top of the first guard, the bullets flying by under him. 

Jumping back to his feet, Ron turned on his heel just in time to block a pistol whip from the second guard. His block was hard enough to knock the gun out of the guard’s hands. Ron followed up with several punches and kicks, each making hard contact, knocking the guard back. Finally backing the guard up to the wall, Ron slammed his hand forward into the guard’s neck, holding him against the wall.

“ _Where are you keeping the kids?_ ” Ron asked darkly, a faint glimmer of blue in his eyes.

“ _Don’t kill me! I’ve heard of your power!_ ” the second guard blurted. Ron was taken aback. 

“ _Dude? What do I look like? The Punisher?_ ” he joked. “ _Now tell me, where are the kids?_ ”

The guard pointed to his left. 

“ _Through that wall there’s a cell. One guard is in there waiting--_ ” the guard managed to let off before he passed out. Ron let him drop to the floor and charged towards the wall at a moderate jog. 

“Mystical Monkey Power do your thing!” he said to himself, jumping into the air, blue spurts of energy coming off of him. He brought his foot to dropkick the wall and--

CRACK!

Ron’s leg cracked inwards as a small chunk of the wall was knocked out. 

“Ow!” he yelped, falling onto his back, clutching his knee. Rufus jumped out of his pocket and held up a small sign for him that read “6.8.”

“Uh huh, yeah, that’s very funny--” Ron snarked back when bullets from an automatic weapon started tearing through the wall directly above his head. 

~^*KP*^~

The two goons that were coming from Kim’s four and eleven arrived first, both of their arms swinging down for death strikes to her head. Both of Kim’s hands snapped forward, just in time to grab their wrists. Squeezing them tight, both men simultaneously dropped their knives to the floor. 

Kim brought her right leg up and pivoted, swinging it into one of the goon’s stomachs. He fell flat on his back, right out of her grasp. Using the momentum from the kick, Kim turned ninety more degrees before she stopped, then, like a rubber band, shot backwards, knocking the back of her head into the remaining goon’s. Like the first goon, he crumpled to floor. 

This left the three goons coming from her two, six, and nine. Turning to her two, she chopped one arm backwards, just in time to thwap the forearm of the man behind her at her nine. The man cried out in pain as his knife fell to the floor. Back to the man about to embed a knife into her stomach, Kim calmly stepped off to the side, avoiding the man’s stab. Then, grabbing him by his lapels, Kim thrust her hips and threw the goon across the floor and into a wooden table several yards away. The entire structure collapsed in a cloud of dust. 

Smirking, Kim dodged a desperate kick from the man she had already disarmed and knocked him out with one swift left hook to the chin. Not taking time to gloat, she turned to her six where the last goon was supposed to show-up, but mysteriously, he wasn’t there.

“That’s funny,” Kim said with a bit of bounce in her voice. “One, two, three, four...I thought I counted five guys.” That was when she heard the telling sound of a foot scraping against a dusty cement floor. Jumping to the side she narrowly avoided the swing of a nun-chuck towards her skull. 

Right in-front of her was the final thug, a little jittery, but ready to go. He bounced from foot to foot, swinging his nun-chuck around in mindless patterns. 

“Aw. Happy Birthday to me,” Kim deadpanned. 

The Nun-Chuck Goon made his first swing at her. She dodged it with ease, leaning backwards, the blunt object slapping merely air. Grunting, the goon followed up with another swing. And another. And another. Step by step, the Goon pushed Kim towards the wall, cornering her. 

His speed kicked up a notch, his nun-chuck lost in a blur of emotion. Kim’s speed kicked up. She was starting to get a little nervous, and that was when she felt the wall touch her back. But it wasn’t just wall. It seemed to her that there was a massive network of pipes directly behind her. 

With only half a second to make a decent plan, Kim ducked low to the floor as the nun-chuck whizzed over her head, crashing into the pipes. With a mighty POP, a stream of steam shot out of the pipe, blasting the goon in the face. Stepping back, swatting the steam away, he checked for Kim but all of a sudden she was missing. 

“That’s impossible,” the guard uttered, looking around for the teenage hero.

“Check the name.”

All of a sudden two legs snapped upwards, gripping the guard by his neck. He let go of the nun-chuck immediately, both arms rushing up to tear the legs off of him, but before he was able to accomplish anything, the legs twisted, swinging towards the floor. 

His body slammed against the cement in a daze, the legs still wrapped around him. Looking up, he saw the youthful body of Kimberly Ann Possible tilt towards him with a delighted smile.

“Now say Uncle.”

~^*KP*^~

 _Why aren’t my powers working right now?_ Ron thought.

“This is it, Rufus,” Ron cried, holding his hands over his head. “Years of crime fighting have built up to this moment, and all that’s left is a pants-less man under fire.” He paused, looking to Rufus seriously. “If you walk out of this alive, Rufus, would you do the honor of writing my biography?” 

SLAP!

“Ow! Rufus! I’m trying to have a--” Ron started, glaring at the little pink rodent. He was pointing up at something. Following Rufus’s eye-line he saw it. An open hole in the wall crafted by one of the many bullets fired by the man on the other side of the wall.

“Good call,” Ron smiled, giving his little buddy a high-five. Scooping him up with both hands, he tossed Rufus up three feet where he landed perfectly in the hole he needed. Scurrying fast, Rufus crossed through the wall and leapt out of the hall, landing onto the collar of a burly man with a machine gun. 

The man squealed, clapping both hands to his chest as Rufus slipped down his shirt. He desperately searched his body for the naked mole rat when he suddenly felt a tingle in--

Aw. That’s just not right. 

~^*KP*^~

Kim charged across the warehouse, ready for anything. Clearing through the goons in the main room was relatively easy. It was a little bit too easy. There had to be something bigger waiting for her.

Heading up a small metal staircase, Kim made it closer to the door leading into the next room. However, the entire area was in shadows. A little peculiar. 

Stepping forward, the darkness in front of her shoved forward, slamming into her and knocking her several yards backward. Hitting the floor at a roll, Kim was quick to get back on her feet. Then she saw the big surprise of the evening. 

The dark blob stepped out of the shadows. As the overhead lights finally played on the creature’s face its identity was revealed.

“Wade,” Kim said into her comm-link. “You didn’t tell me that there was going to be a Sumo Ninja here.”

“Sorry, Kim. I thought you knew Futtokka Otoko means the Fat Ninja.”

“Well let me know about any other surprises there might be, Wade,” Kim grunted, “Please and thank you.”

Spitting at the floor, she looked back up at the Sumo Ninja. “Let’s go.”

~^*KP*^~

The gunman twirled around, searching for the rodent running up and down his body when he suddenly felt a hand clap against his shoulder. He turned and found himself looking straight into the eyes of the male half of Team Possible. 

“Figured it’d be easier just to use the door,” Ron chuckled and then tensed up. Over the gunman’s shoulder he saw a small prison cell where a handful of children were trapped. Snatching the keys with one hand, Ron used his other hand to toss the gunman across the room.

The man’s back slammed the wall he had previously shot up and the entire structure gave away, crumbling into a plume of dust. 

“Aw man,” Ron sighed, stepping towards the cell door.

“ _Hey,_ ” Ron said softly to the children, “ _Don’t worry. I’ll get you guys out of here in a jiffy._ ”

~^*KP*^~

This Sumo Ninja was not like the one that she had fought a year ago when Nakasumi-San was under threat by Shego. First off, he was coordinated, as well as impervious. No matter where she hit him the man wouldn’t budge. He kept advancing on her, his arms like brick walls that swept across the room. Even with the super-suit Wade had designed for her she was still taking in a lot of damage. 

One of his swings managed to hit home and cracked her right in the jaw, knocking her flat on her back. Her vision started to give out, but she could see a black shape stepping towards her. The Sumo Ninja lifted his arms and leaned forward. He was going to crush her into the floor with his sheer weight.

 _Not happening,_ she thought, and jammed her legs upwards, just in time to catch the titan mid-descent. Putting everything she had into that push, Kim was somehow able to support the man, but all over, her body screamed for relief. 

Far off, a door swung open and from the corner of her eye she could see Ron coming through with the gaggle of children behind him. 

_Nice job, Ron,_ she thought, her vision giving out, everything becoming black...wait...was he not wearing pants? 

With all the energy she had left, she gave the Sumo Ninja one final push with her legs, knocking the mountain of a man a few inches backwards where he teetered back onto his feet. Immediately, he pulled a katana out from behind him and raised it over his head.

“Kim?” Ron asked from afar, that familiar blue kicking back in. He ran forward and leapt into the air, getting back in form to do that dropkick he wanted to plant on the wall earlier. But this time he had it; the power was right, he could feel it coursing through his veins. 

He was mere inches from smashing into the Sumo Ninja’s head before the last thing he ever expected to happen occurred: Kim stopped him.

Guided by a rocket boost from her battle suit, Kim’s limp body flew through the air and slammed into Ron’s, sending them both to the floor. With the momentum build up from his Mystical Monkey Power they both slid yards across the floor together, until Kim’s unconscious body rolled off of Ron’s, taking his backpack with her as she crashed into one of the far walls.

“KP!” Ron shouted, all of that confidence and bravado gone as he looked at the fallen Kim. He had just hurt her bad. Was that an accident? Was she trying to stop him? 

He charged towards the Sumo Ninja bull-headed only to get grabbed by the front of his sweater. Effortlessly, the man lifted Ron six feet into the air so that their eyes were level with each other. Gasping, Ron threw both arms up and slid out of his sweater and back to the floor.

“Nobody hurts Kim,” he grunted, jumping at the Sumo Ninja, flipping upward, his feet striking against the man’s stomach, the two kicks like mallets hitting a drum. The Sumo Ninja stumbled backwards, dropping the sweater back onto Ron. Miraculously, it felt right around his head. His arms popped back into the sleeves and he was good to go.

“A-booya--wait hold on a sec,” Ron stopped, looked at the tag in front of the sweater, and pulled his arms back inside the sweater. He twirled it around then slid his arms back in. “There we go. Ah-boo-y’know that just doesn’t feel right. Sorry, man.”

Again, the Sumo Ninja raised his katana over his head.

“Oh.”

From the back of the room, Kim regained consciousness. Grimacing, she reached into the backpack, searching for something. Various equipment clattered against her hand. Then she felt it. Smiling despite the immense pain, she pulled the hair drier out and aimed it between Ron and The Sumo Ninja. Wincing, she pulled the trigger and a grapple soared across the room. Just as fast as she hooked onto something she flew across the room. Staying at the relative height of the Sumo Ninja, she stretched her left hand and closed her eyes; she had one shot at this. 

Searing pain coursed through her left arm as her hand gripped onto the Sumo Ninja’s katana. With help from the grapple, she was able to tear it from his hand. She let go of the grapple at that very moment and landed on the floor, katana raised and ready to strike. Ron scurried behind her. 

Breathing harshly, Kim whispered to the Sumo Ninja.

“Stay back. Your guards are down. We rescued the kids. The police are coming and the last thing I want to do is hurt someone with this thing.”

“Ooh, you’re in trouble now, dude,” Ron quipped. He gathered some more gumption for another round of yucks but a death glare from Kim quickly silenced him. 

“Ha,” the Sumo Ninja laughed darkly, his voice thick and oily, “You can’t even stand.”

“Please,” Kim shuddered, her legs shaking. “I can do anything.”

He took a step forward. 

And then another.

Closing her eyes, Kim swung the katana forward towards the Sumo Ninja’s mid-section, but she never heard the slash. Opening her eyes, she watched in horror as the Sumo Ninja grabbed the blade right out of her hands and tossed it aside. Blood streamed from his palms but it didn’t seem to bother him.

This was it. Kim’s left hand crept backwards, grabbing onto Ron’s with an iron grip. Then a certain warmth spread through her body.

 _“Oh no,”_ Kim thought. 

Ron leapt in front of Kim, still holding her hand, and launched himself right into the Sumo Ninja’s stomach. His kick didn’t just knock the monster a few feet back like last time; it sent him soaring forty feet into the air. 

The Sumo Ninja’s body slammed against the overhang above the door, cracking the stone. His body hung in the air for a moment before it fell twenty feet back to the ground where he landed face-first. The rubble from the wall he knocked out landed after him, burying him where he laid.

“Ron!” Kim shouted with concern, stepping in front of her best friend. Putting both hands on his shoulders she looked at him. There was no smile, no emotion she could read off his plain face. It was so unlike him. 

Ron looked up at her finally, his eyes heavy with loss. His. Icy. Blue. Eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron and Kim go out to eat and talk things over.

_"A broken spine, a concussion, several other broken bones, and oh right, you put him into a coma! We needed him to talk!"_

**Outside The Futokka Otoko: Yamanouchi, Japan  
July 20, 2007: 11:21PM**

Kim and Ron listened to one of the Yamanouchi cops go off on them for ten minutes. By this point the kids had all been shipped off, and with the help of six orderlies, they managed to unearth the Sumo Ninja and send him on his way to the hospital.

"We're sorry. It won't happen again," Kim said, her eyes darting back and forth between the officer and Ron, who had remained silent the whole time.

_"Do your parents even know you've been here?"_

"Believe me, they know," Kim growled, grabbing Ron by the hand and leading him off of the crime scene. "I'm hungry. You hungry?" she asked, forcing a smile at him. He didn't respond.

**Irashai: Yamanouchi, Japan  
July 20, 2007: 12:18AM**

Kim and Ron hadn't said a word in the past ten minutes. They sat across each other at a booth in a restaurant called Irashai. It was a sushi joint that was thankfully aware of the two heroes and was willing to hold up shop for another hour to feed them. In front of each of them was a bowl of miso soup and three different Makis. Ron picked up one Crazy Roll, a breaded maki that was dressed with crab and shrimp, and shoved it into his mouth.

"Not as good as a Naco," Ron said with a stuffed mouth, "But it sure beats Meat Cakes!" He leaned back in the booth, the warm feeling of the sushi washing through his body. "Y'know, I've never actually had a meat cake before so I should probably stop bad-mouthing them."

A long, heavy silence.

"Ron, you've been really off lately. What's up?" Kim asked nervously.

"What?" Ron stuttered, sitting back up worriedly. "Nothing's wrong, I'm good, Rufus you good, yeah I thought so. We're good, KP. Not a care in the-"

"Ron," Kim interrupted, frowning. "Your eyes."

"Ah! Did I lose one?" Ron practically shouted, clapping his face to make sure both of his eyes were still intact.

"They're blue," she sighed.

"Oh," Ron sighed, both hands falling into his lap. "Right. Yeah. Um. KP. Remember when Drakken and I got zapped by the Attitudinator? I turned blue and Drakken..."

"Turned white."

"And befriended my naked little buddy! Sick and wrong!" Ron shrieked, "But yeah, I think it's because of my Mystical Monkey Power. It's been getting harder and harder to control, especially when I'm around you. And I'm slipping up big time."

"Ron, you did what you had to do to protect us," Kim reassured him.

"But?" Ron asked, looking at Kim with pleading eyes.

"Okay," Kim kept her eyes on the table, "You didn't need to kick him so hard but at least the kids got out alive."

Ron gulped. He knew Kim was mad at him; he had to ask.

"KP, why didn't you let me kick the Sumo Ninja the first time?" Ron asked weakly. Kim stared back at him, then slid her hand onto his.

"I…I didn't want you to keep hurting yourself," Kim admitted, forcing a sharp grin after she said it.

"But he was going to kill—hurt you," Ron replied back. "It needed to happen."

"Ron, I understand what you mean, but think of someone like Shego and Drakken. They're good guys now, people can change and do wonderful things. We can't do the irreversible to anyone no matter how rotten they are on the inside."

It was hard looking at Ron. Even though it was her Ron who had always tried to do the right thing, it was difficult getting past those new blue eyes of his.

"I tried using my powers to bust down a wall earlier," Ron thought out loud. "But they didn't work. They only work when you're around."

Kim froze. She had a feeling that Ron's unconditional love for her is what sparked his powers. She loved Ron so much but his powers were doing so much damage. For Team Possible to continue their mission, it couldn't be a team anymore…

Kim got to her feet.

"Oh man, are we breaking up?" Ron asked as he shakily got to his feet.

There it was.

"No, I don't want to, but…" Kim sighed. She held her hands out and Ron crushed her in his embrace. She folded her arms around him and rubbed the back of his neck. "We need to do something and I'm here for you, okay?"

Ron pulled back, determined. "I'm going to stay here, KP."

"What?!" Kim shouted.

"I'm going to stay with Sensei and train with him until I get this right." Ron said plainly.

"Ron, no, don't do that," Kim said, trying to get closer to Ron. He backed away. "We can figure this out together. But you have to go back to Lowerton for college."

"Why? So you can go to all the way to Oxford for nothin—sorry, KP," Ron sighed, referring to Kim's currently directionless college career. She had never seen him this flustered before. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why can't you stay here?" Ron asked, his voice shaky. "Why are you leaving me behind?"

Kim bit her lip. "I don't know, Ron, I'm sorry." She knew all too well. But things were fragile enough as they were. "But you can get through this. I know you can."

Ron moved back an inch and looked at Kim. His cold eyes were met with a warm smile.

But that smile was forced. Convincing, but Kim didn't mean it.

**The Jenkins Home: Santa Fe, California  
July 21, 2007: 9:57PM**

A car pulled up to a small, one story suburban home. The soft chirps of crickets filled the air. Stepping out of his car, Carl looked at his old home and bit his lip nervously. Dressed to impress with a white blazer and clean-shaven face, he pulled a bouquet of flowers from the passenger seat and shut the car door.

His whole life had built up to this place: it was his work that bought the house, that supported his wife, and supported the kids. If he hadn't joined forced with Drakken, they would still be living in that awful apartment. If only he knew then what he knew now.

A few years ago he was a construction worker. He worked day in and day out up in the air on metal support beams, melding steel together to make skyscrapers. One day he decided it wasn't enough; he needed more. He used all those muscles he had built up over the years and put them to good use in underground arenas where he fought. He fought well and eventually someone made an offer to him; he took it. Flash forward a few years and he was an ex-convict who worked for a blue skinned madman.

He stepped closer to the house. One car was in the driveway other than his. His wife's. A beautiful 2006 Mercedes. He remembered buying that for the family. He was surprised the government hadn't taken it away.

Come to think of it, his daughter should be seventeen by now. Did she have her own car? Were the kids in? Maybe they were hanging out with friends? Last time he saw Chelsea it was when he brought her to the DMV to take her learner's permit test.

He stepped up to the front door and after a moment's hesitation knocked on that door. Ten seconds later the door swung open.

"What are you doing here, Carl?" his wife, Sheila, asked flatly. She looked tired. And annoyed. Minor setback. He still had the flowers. He offered them to her. She shook her head.

"Heh. Just, um-I was in the area and I was thinking about you. About the family. How is everyone?" he asked.

"Fine," she said coldly.

"Hm," Carl sighed, "Your sister's getting married next week, right?"

Sheila nodded back.

"Well, here's my wedding gift for her," Carl smiled as he handed her a small package. She took it and looked at it, trying to figure it out.

"What is this?" she said.

"A free trip to the Bahamas!" he laughed. Nothing. His face fell.

"Carl, tell me the truth. What's going on?"

"She works in Upperton right? Finest medical facilities in the state by a long shot. But um-the next plan...we're hitting Middleton. And there might be some...um..." he paused, searching for the right word. "Collateral."

"You should go," Sheila said quietly, sliding the package into her bathrobe.

Carl nodded back and turned away, headed back to his car. The door started to creak. He had one more chance.

"This is going to be the last one, Sheila," Carl said smugly. "This plan is going to end it all. It's really quite brilliant actually." He turned to face her. "The threat will be eradicated. I'll be out. I can come home."

She froze, thinking of something to say, but nothing came up. Not even a flicker of joy in her eyes.

"How are the kids anyways? Michael still studying hard to get into Harvard Law?" Carl asked excitedly.

"Actually, he's thinking of going to art school now," Sheila replied coldly, "Goodbye Carl."

And with that the door slammed shut. That could've gone better. At least he was able to give her the vacation card. Drooping his head, he wrestled with his keys and opened the car back up.

Waiting a beat in the car to get one last look at his old home, no, what was he thinking? Last time? Of course he would come back here one day. They just needed to get rid of Kim Possible. The job would be done; he could quit. Especially after being the mastermind behind this big, new plan.

He saw headlights off to his right headed his way. Was it his daughter? Was she coming home? Oh God, he would love to see her again and assure her that he was coming back, but what if she didn't want to see him? What if she called the police? And he had to stand in court again with his wife opposing him.

In a panic, he shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway and careened several blocks away from his home and pulled over. Looking over his left shoulder, the headlights from before passed by him. No one in particular. Just someone headed back from work.

Drumming the wheel nervously, Carl let out one final deep breath.

"Uh..." he grunted, "Call Bob Humphrey."

His car talked back to him in a feminine voice.

"Calling...Bob Humphrey...is that correct?"

"Dial," Carl sighed as he pulled off the curb.

"Hey, Carl, how'd it go, man? Don't tell me! She loved the bouquet! Yeah?" Bob asked excitedly.

"Oh yeah, yeah!" Carl laughed, "Definitely. And I mean what woman wouldn't?"

"So you headed back?"

"Yeah, I-uh...got out a little early so hopefully I can catch an early flight back to Providence. How are things looking in the lab?"

"Great! You wouldn't believe it! Even Shego thinks it's going to work and you know how she is. You know what I think?"

"What?" Carl asked. It was getting hard pretending to be so excited. He could feel it in his stomach.

"You're on your way to a promotion after this one my friend!"

"You don't say?" Carl asked, all pretenses of joy gone now. "Anyways Bob, thanks for the update. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Carl," Bob finished. A click and Carl was free of it. Rubbing his forehead, he looked away from the street for a second. He remembered driving Chelsea and Michael to the elementary school this way every day a few years ago. Then he took on that 'job.' Suddenly he was spending less and less time at home, missing dinners, and all of a sudden the kids opted to take the bus. Didn't drive this way that much anymore.

How did everything get so screwed up?

**Yamanouchi Ninja School: Yamanouchi, Japan  
July 26, 2007: 5:32AM**

After a long hard day's work training with Sensei, Kim and Ron slept on different bamboo mats, both a little restless in their sleep.

_Beep-beep-de-deep!_

The Kimmunicator's familiar chime didn't even stir Ron, but Kim snapped out of her sleep and grabbed the Kimmunicator. Bringing it up to her ear she said the familiar phrase, "What's the sitch, Wade?"

Upon Kim getting up, Ron finally opened his eyes. Moaning, he knelt up besides his girlfriend and put a hand on her shoulder.

"What's the sitch, Wade?" Ron quoted.

"Ron, I already asked him. We talked about this. If you get to the Kimmunicator first then-"

"I hate to interrupt guys," Wade said gravely, "But we've got a problem."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim & Ron storm Drakken's new base.

“So we’re looking at an earthquake generator that is capable of taking out the entire East Coast with a tsunami...”

“Didn’t he already do something like this?”

“Ron. Focus. Keep going, Wade.”

**Aboard an Airplane: Somewhere Over the Atlantic Ocean  
July 26, 2007: 2:45PM**

“But, correct me if I’m wrong, KP,” Ron started, fitting on his scuba outfit. “But he tried to shift the whole planet back into one solid continent, didn’t he? Isn’t this a little small?”

“Well he did just come back out of retirement,” Kim offered weakly, already fitted into her outfit. She looked back into her Kimmunicator. “Y’know, I thought for sure that Drakken was never going to go back to his old ways.”

Ron looked up at Kim. Was she finally opening up about something?

“Hey, maybe Wade made a mistake,” Ron offered.

"Yeah, who knows,” Kim whispered. Just the other day she was telling Ron that they can’t hurt the bad guys because of the good they can do. Drakken and Shego encapsulated that idea. Now all of a sudden they were trying to take over the world again? Was it really just as simple as Ron thought?

“Look, we’ll bust him up like we usually do, a-and…” Ron trailed off, “We’ll talk to them, right? And get answers as to why they are doing this. I believe you, KP.”

Kim smiled at Ron and patted his cheek. His encouragement was nice but it still hurt a lot. She got to her feet and started getting ready.

“I’m sending you guys a scan of his lair. The generator is at the middle, but all around you’ve got guards up the wazoo. He’s not pulling any punches here,” Wade explained. “That’s really all I can give you.”

“How do we turn off the generator?” Ron asked.

“Not sure, sorry guys,” Wade said glumly. “This just popped up on my radar three hours ago”

“Team Possible, you are cleared to land,” the pilot shouted back as the hanger door slid open. Ron stood to the edge with Kim. He reached out for her hand. Below them was a twenty-foot drop into the ocean.

“How do you want to do this one, KP? I distract the guys, you find the generator?” Ron asked, raising his eyebrow.

Good question. Kim frowned, and jumped off the plane, dragging Ron behind her.

“How about...” she shouted loud enough to be heard as they plummeted towards the ocean. Thinking quickly, she spat out what she needed to say to him. “I take the guys, you get the generator.”

“You want me to--” Ron started before his face slapped against the water. Ron rolled over underwater until he was facing Kim who gave him the thumbs up. One hundred feet below them was a giant evil lair with lime green glass on the outside. It was shaped like a pumpkin, a pumpkin that was sitting on top of a massive drill.

The duo checked to make sure the other was in ship-shape, and then turned to face the lair. Kim started swimming towards it first. Ron lingered for a second, a little crestfallen that Kim didn’t want him near any of Drakken’s guys.

**The Generator: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 2:47PM**

A single tear rolled down Drakken’s scarred cheek.

“Isn’t it beautiful, Shego?”

“Oh, yeah, real beautiful, Doc,” Shego sighed, checking behind her hoping for some kind of distraction.

Drakken stepped farther up the platform, raising his arms towards the magnificent mechanism. It was a giant generator attached to a drill that entered the ocean below them. The room itself was massive, with chords and wires coming in from all over the ceiling, attaching to the drill. It drew power from everywhere in the lair. Astonishing.

“This is going to be our heyday, Shego,” Drakken said, his voice choked up.

“Great,” Shego drawled.

At long last, her prayers were answered; the doors opened. Carl stepped into the room.

“Excuse me, Dr. Drakken, but Team Possible has breached,” Carl said in a monotone.

“Ah yes!” Drakken shouted, pumping his fists into the air. “It’s my time to rule! It’s--”

“Okay, tell everyone to take their positions. No more than four guys a squad, we have a lot of area to cover,” Shego ordered, interrupting Drakken without taking notice.

“Um, Shego--” Drakken started.

“We’ve designed choke-points all over the map for combat. Each access point needs coverage, that’s going to mean we’re more spread-out than usual. But as we progress, we move in accordingly. But only when told to through the radio. Which is what you’re doing.”

“Shego, I--”

“I’m going to be on the go around the lair, but I will be on radio if I’m needed. And what, Doc?” Shego sneered.

“I prepared a big---erm--evil speech. I was hoping to, y’know, wow the troops, really motivate them to--”

“Uh-huh, after we win,” Shego said, brushing past Drakken. She passed Carl who did not budge an inch. Freezing in the doorway, she spoke without turning to the man.

“Why are you just standing there?”

“I’m...I was hoping to talk to you before they got here,” Carl sighed, rubbing his hands together. Looking back up, he slumped over a bit, adding some artificial strain to his voice. “I’m feeling sick,” he lied. “I wanted to know if I could sit this one out.”

“You mean you don’t feel good after your little ol’ ex up in Santa Fe dumped you again,” Shego sighed.

“Oh.”

“We keep track of our guys, especially when they make errands to scout out our Middleton location when they aren’t stationed there,” Shego said. “You’ve got two seconds or I will blast you across this room.”

He scurried past Shego without another word. Shego took a step forward when the door slammed in front of her. Crossing her arms she turned to face Drakken as he lifted his fingers off the control panel.

“These doors got five layers of steel on them, Doc. You’re safer holed up in here with the generator.”

“Mm,” Drakken sighed, folding his hands behind his back. “Be careful out there, Shego.”

“Um...Doc?” Shego raised an eyebrow.

“I uh...just don’t want any fouls on this,” Drakken sighed, rubbing his temple. “And keep an eye on Jimmy there.”

“You mean, Carl?” Shego smirked, sliding both hands onto her hips.

“His name’s not Jimmy?” Drakken asked, “These minions really got to stand up for themselves more. Ooh, or maybe I’m intimidating them and--”

“Is there a point to this?”

Drakken grimaced, and closed his eyes. Five second rule before he spoke again. That’s what his therapist always said. That and pick on someone your own size. He should really lay off the whole Dementor thing...

“If we want to rule the world...” Drakken started, eying Shego nervously. “Which we do...” He waited for Shego to offer him an affirming nod. Right. They’re evil. This is what they do. “We’ve got to play hard ball. I don’t want any weak links today, Shego. Is that clear?”

Shego grinned maliciously.

**Main Hall: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 2:51PM**

Five steps into Drakken’s new lair and already Team Possible had been cornered by his minions on all ends at a four-way intersection where several squads had moved in. There were at least two dozen of them. Fortunately for Kim and Ron, they were just as sluggish as ever.

“Ron!” Kim shouted as she flipped one guy over her shoulders and into another.

“What’s up, KP?” Ron shouted back as he kicked at a different goon’s punches.

“I can take care of this. I’ve cleared the corridor, I need you to move forward,” Kim said as the left hand of her battle suit transformed into a scoop.

“No can do!” Ron said gleefully as he aimed a kick for the goon’s head. A sudden spasm erupted in Ron’s leg as it shot forward. Was it okay for him to nail the guy in the face? Was there a possibility he was overdoing it? Did this guy deserve any kind of punishment like that? He used to know the answers to those questions but not anymore.

Ron’s foot swung a foot to the right, soaring past the goon’s skull. The goon grabbed Ron’s leg and threw him across the room and into a pile of several other goons.

Across the room a goon had pulled a gun on Kim. It was glowing red. Grimacing, the goon fired off a blast of energy that headed straight for Kim. Twisting on her heels, Kim used the scoop on her left hand to take the blast. Carrying it with her, she spun around three hundred sixty degrees before letting the energy blast go. It flew straight for the pile of goons that were about to knock Ron into the floor.

Like bowling pins, the energy blast plowed through the goons, sending them flying across the room where they slumped over unconscious. Coming to, Ron slowly got to his feet just in time to watch Kim knock out the last guy with a kick to his breadbasket.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ron approached Kim. “Kim, I wanted to talk to you about the plan.”

“Ron, I need you to take out the generator. This is really important,” Kim said, looking at him hard.

“Look, if this is about the whole sumo ninja thing, I--I can...”

“I’m not benching you, Ron,” Kim replied earnestly. “But I don’t want you to hurt yourself on this one. I know you can take out each and every one of these guys with both of your hands tied behind your back, but that’s not what everyone on the East Coast needs right now.”

“Got it,” Ron smiled back. He wasn’t fully assured yet, but he could work with that for the time being.

“I’m going to run through the perimeter and draw their fire. Meanwhile, I need you to make it to the core of the facility and shut that drill down. Okay?”

“Alright. Just be careful, KP.”

“Right back atchya.”

**The Ventilation Systems: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:07PM**

Ron silently trudged along on his hands and knees through the maze that was the evil lair’s ventilation systems. Occasionally, Rufus would run in front of him and give him some words of encouragement, but nothing was breaching Ron this time around. Not even a handful of nachos that Rufus had stuffed in Ron’s pocket for the adventure.

“Thanks, Rufus,” Ron sighed with a weak smile. He patted his little buddy on the head with a single finger. “But gotta keep our heads in the game. That’s what KP would say.”

“NYEH-HEH-HEH-HEH-HOO-HA!”

“What the Heck...” Ron whispered as he listened to maniacal laughter echo down the vents.

“No that’s not right...it should be a...Ha-Hee-Hoo-Ha!”

“Oh it’s just Drakken,” Ron sighed. His face fell. “Wait a tick, we’re after Drakken!” Ron beamed at Rufus and scooped him back into his pocket. Following the direction of the laughter, he eventually found the bad doctor. Looking down through a vent he could see Drakken pacing back and forth with a tape recorder in hands.

“My fellow bad guys...” Drakken started, facing an imaginary gaggle of goons. “Today is a day that will live in infamy, the day that we will crush Kim Possible!” He smiled a toothy grin. He paused, looked down at his feet, then fixed his posture. “No no...because if I’m...telling the guys my speech we already won...”

A crash from above. Drakken looked up as one of the vents collapsed. From the falling metal, Ron emerged. He fell five yards away from Drakken in a crouched position. Standing tall, he threw his hands on his hips.

“Nice speech, dude. Too bad you’re never going to get a chance to read it,” Ron quipped proudly.

“Where’s Kimberly Ann, Stoppable?” Drakken shouted as he scurried away from Ron.

“Ooh, y’know, I like it when you say my name,” Ron flirted. He ran towards Drakken and kicked him in the chest, knocking him into one of the guard rails that stopped people from falling down the pit that lead to the drill.

Drakken gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, his tape recorder falling out of his hand and into the pit. A hand wrapped around the front of his jacket and threw him into the generator.

“So how do I stop the drill, Big Blue?” Ron asked, holding a knuckle sandwich close to Drakken’s jaw.

“Hm...maybe if you let me keep my tape recorder you would have found it in my evil memos,” Drakken gloated. “But noooooo, you made me drop it---”

“Can it, Doc,” Ron growled. His eyes strayed to the control panel. “What would happen if I just start hitting buttons?”

“Oh I wouldn’t do that,” Drakken sneered.

“Thanks,” Ron smirked. Reaching over to the panel he pushed his first button. A big red one at that. All of a sudden a claw came in from above and grabbed Ron by his legs and lifted him into the air.

“Ha-HA-aha-hoo!” Drakken laughed, looking up at Ron with the same grin. “My machine is buffoon-proof!” A hesitant pause. “How was the laugh? Too much?”

“I feel like you’re holding back,” Ron sighed, making sweeping gestures with his hands for emphasis. “You gotta let it out, go crazy y’know. Add some length here, find the right moments to hold on to, and build that up to a finisher.”

“Wait hold the phone,” Drakken reached into his jacket and pulled out yet another tape recorder and aimed it at Ron. “Could you repeat that?”

**The West Wing: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:13PM**

Kim was amazed as she fought her way through the corridors to Drakken’s lair. Usually the lairs weren’t structurally sound and had very little style to them. This one was a labyrinth and appeared to hold together nicely. One of her brawls ended with her kicking a larger goon into the glass wall that separated them from the ocean and his body didn’t even manage to leave a scratch.

Drakken must have put the past three months into this lair and it showed. It needed to be tough. After all, if Ron couldn’t shut the generator off in time, this whole lair was going to be burrowing into the ocean floor.

 _That’s not going to happen though,_ she thought as she grabbed the foot of a mook trying to dropkick her. Twisting her body she tossed the mook to the side. She knew Ron could take care of anything Drakken threw at him. At this point in time, she was actually more worried about herself. The galley of goons Drakken had hired was more than she had ever encountered before, and they were really starting to wear her down. She hadn’t even caught sights of Shego yet.

She turned a corner and saw a group of five goons, all armed with guns. A steel door slid shut behind and in front of her, trapping her with the goons. Rolling to the side, she dodged a series of red lasers that blasted into the steel door.

Looking up she got a better look at her targets as they readjusted their sights on her. They were all clumped together in a wave formation. This wasn’t going to be too bad.

Leaning forward an inch, she clicked her heels against the floor, two rocket flares burst from the shoes in her suit, sending her high into the air over the onslaught of enemy fire, and forward across the room.

As her descent was coming to a close, she brought her arms forward; she was landing just where she wanted to go: behind the rightmost goon.

She snapped her hands forward as she skimmed over the goon’s head. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she started to push her arms back up as they twisted behind her. She hit the ground hard, but the momentum from the jump was just what she needed. Her arms snapped over her head and she let go, tossing the goon halfway across the room where he collapsed.

Turning to her left, she slapped the gun pointing at her and aimed a punch at the goon’s chin. Like many of the other glass jaws she was dealing with, he tapped out, leaving her with three more goons.

One goon gasped, clutched his heart, and fell flat on his back. Two goons, I guess.

“Aw c’mon, Carl!” one of the remaining goons sneered. “Again!?”

Kim took advantage of the disruption and raised her arm. A hatch opened and a grappling hook fired out, plugging the man’s gun. Instinctively, he squeezed on the trigger, causing the laser blast to fly into the metal and burst, destroying the gun in his hands.

Kim darted forward, punching the goon in the face. He took the hit well. Finally. Some resistance. She brought both hands together and swung them down on the man’s head, bending him over. Then she kicked him in the chest, sending him straight to the floor. Turning her head, she saw the final standing goon.

Smirking, her blue energy shield kicked up.

The goon’s eyes narrowed as she smirked back. He let go of the gun with one hand and let it dangle, holding it by the handle with his thumb.

“What do you think I am stupid? No way you’re gonna get me to shoot at your little energy shield with my laser gun,” the goon laughed, “I mean...why would I do that?” He tossed the gun to the side casually, and turned back to face Kim, still chuckling to himself.

And then her shield went down.

“Oh.”

The goon turned and lurched forward to get his gun back but Kim’s hand slapped against his chest, holding him back. He continued to writhe, tears starting to wet his rough cheeks. “No! Why is this happening to me?!” he sobbed. “Why can’t a mook have his day--”

A quick punch to the face and he was out. Boooring... Kim dropped the guy and clapped her hands together nonchalantly. “Now to get out of this room--”

CRACK!

A gun nailed Kim at the back of her neck, knocking her onto her knees. Her vision got fuzzy and it was hard to hear. Her senses regaining themselves, she felt cold steel pressing against the back of her head. The shaft of a gun.

“Faked a heart attack?” Kim managed to choke out.

“Yup.”

A quiet ploomp behind her. The shuffling of clothing. A sob.

Kim couldn’t see it happen but that thug behind her was Carl Jenkins on his knees, sobbing into his gun.


	7. Chapter 7

“So what are you going to do with the East Coast after you destroy it? Take over the fish market?”

“What do I look like? A---actually...”

**The Generator: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:19PM**

“...that’s not a bad idea,” Drakken mused, stepping backwards onto a platform with its own guardrails set up. Rapping his fingers against the dashboard, he flicked a switch and the platform started rising. 

“But no!” Drakken shouted as the platform stopped at Ron’s eye level. “That is not my big plan.”

“So what is your big plan, Doc?” Ron smiled, his smirk combined with his raised eyebrow was threatening on many levels. His sheer confidence was beating Drakken down.

“And why would I tell you that?” Drakken pouted, crossing his arms. 

“Yeah you’re right,” Ron sighed. “It’s probably the lamest plan ever. Lamer than Drakkanada.”

“Aaaaaaaaah!” Drakken shouted, waving his finger. “I was...going through some stuff when that happened. But! Feast your eyes on this!” Drakken cried out, turning to face the wall behind them just in time to watch a large television screen descending from the ceiling. 

On display was the Middleton Smarty Mart. The screen flickered and image changed to the Middleton High School. Then his old home. Then Kim’s home. The mall. Middleton Space Center. And then...

No. It can’t be.

“Bueno Nacho...” Ron whispered. “What are you planning?”

“You see, um...whatever you name is--” Drakken started.

“What? Oh come on! You said my name earlier!” Ron shouted.

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that,” Drakken said half-amused. “Anyways, the real drill machine isn’t here. This is all an elaborate...” He paused, something finally clicking in his mind. “And very expensive...ruse! Haha! A ruse! Get it? I tricked you and you fell for it hook line and sinker! It’s--” Drakken turned to face Ron but the boy wasn’t giving him anything. “It’s in Middleton.”

Ron’s mouth lowered. His whole family was in Middleton. All of his friends...Felix, Monique, Mr. Barkin...was Mr. Barkin a friend? Y’know, I haven’t really homed in on the nature of that friendship yet...

“Do you think Mr. Barkin likes me, Doc? I never really got that,” Ron asked.

“Hmm, well you did look at him funny that one time,” Drakken replied. 

“Hey that was just that one time! I was--wait, why are we talking about this? You’re destroying my hometown!” Ron shouted, trying to kick his way out of the claw.

“I don’t know, you brought it up!” Drakken shouted back, just as frustrated. “Either way, in ten minutes Middleton is going to get a little...Lowerton. Like...lower into the earth because it’s--just going to be a ditch.”

Ron sighed in response to the joke and kicked harder. _C’mon, Ron...you can get outta here...just gotta..._

_A flash of blue._

_Okay. I can work with that. Just play it cool._

_..._

_Dang. That Barkin thing is really bothering me._

**The West Wing: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:19PM**

No one had said anything for the past minute. Carl still knelt in the same spot with his gun at the back of Kim’s head. None of the mooks around them had stirred in that time, nor had Kim. She wasn’t sure how to handle this. Connecting to bad guys on an emotional level wasn’t exactly part of her skill-set. 

“So...um...what’s up? Kim asked, cringing.

“The generator’s a fake,” Carl finally responded. “This is a trap. And it’s my fault.”

“Look, big guy. Talk to me. What’s a fake?” she asked, the gun still shoved against her neck. 

Carl looked down at her. She was still young. Just a year or two older than his daughter. Kim’s dad was still alive out there somewhere. She probably had a family too. 

“My name is Carl Hartwell Jenkins,” Carl said dryly. “I’ve been working for Doctor Drew Lipsky for the past four years. I needed this. It was for my family. But then one day...” He looked up at the glass wall surrounding them, frozen. 

“I lost my family. It was during the L’il Diablos invasion. I didn’t know what to do. I told my wife, and she--” He paused, forcing a lump down his throat. “She was going to call the police. I had to stop her and now I’m divorced. I haven’t seen my children in over a year and I just want to go home. Do you understand?”

Kim opened her mouth but no words came out. What in the world was going on?

“Please. I need you to understand,” he said.

“Okay. You’ve had a rough family life. But how does that lead to a fake generator?”

“Oh God,” Carl muttered, looking above Kim and at the ceiling. “I needed a way out, so I came up with a scheme. He just wanted to build a giant earthquake machine here and destroy the East Coast. But I knew that wouldn’t stop you. I needed to stop you. I needed to go home.”

A long pause as Kim thought about this, and then she asked the question.

“Where’s the real generator, Carl?” Kim asked harshly, her teeth gritted.

“I...it’s...we built it in Middleton--”

A roar interrupted him. Kim twirled around and grabbed his gun, her fist swinging upwards into his jaw. He stumbled backwards, seeing stars. Two gloved hands grabbed him by the shirt, preventing him from falling.

“How do I stop the generator in Middleton?” Kim shouted. 

“It’s a password, it’s--” he sputtered, but too slowly. The steel doors reopened, and on the other side waited four guards, each of them armed.

Their leader, Bob, stepped forward. 

“You’re going to want to step away from our friend, little missy,” Bob drawled in his Texas accent. He shot a wink over to Carl. Carl frowned back. Leave it to Bob to screw everything up…

**The Generator: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:27PM**

Ron gave the claw another kick. This time, charged by his Mystical Monkey Power, the kick shattered the steel clamped onto his leg. He fell immediately, landing on all fours, his blue energy charge filling up the room. 

Drakken turned and gazed at the ninja boy.

“Wait, you turn blue?” Drakken asked, “Why does no one tell me these things?”

Ron leaped into the air, soaring yards back up to where he was held up. His feet launched out and slammed Drakken in the chest, knocking him across the room. His body slammed into the wall and fell, but before he face-planted into the floor Ron’s hand met him at his chest. 

Ron proceeded by slamming the bad Doctor into the wall, his head lolling to the side.

“How do I stop the drill, Drakken?” 

Nothing. Ron shook Drakken and his body drooped over like a rag-doll.

“Aw man!” Ron cried out as he slapped himself in the forehead. “I told KP I wasn’t going to go overboard!”

As Ron berated himself, his little pink buddy popped out of his pocket and crawled up his chest, then smacked him right in the cheek.

“Ow! Thanks, Rufus. Gotta get my game face on.”

**The West Wing: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:24PM**

“You okay there, buddy?” Bob asked, watching Carl stare at the floor awkwardly as he stood next to the enemy. 

“Yep,” Carl whispered, mostly to himself. 

Suddenly, Carl reached to his left and grabbed the gun from Kim’s hands.

“Haha! Way to go, partner---what are you doing?”

Carl hadn’t pointed the gun at Kim’s head as Bob expected. Instead, he pointed it at him and the other goons. There was a long pause. The goons started digging into their belts for their weapons, but it was too late. Blue energy blasts shot from Carl’s gun, each one hitting one of the goons squarely in the chest, knocking them backwards. One by one, they collapsed. Unconscious. 

Kim looked up at Carl tensely, unsure of the next thing this old man was going to do. He turned to her with heavy eyes and a quivering lip. 

“The password?” Kim asked slowly. 

“Right,” Carl nodded, tears starting to form in his eyes. “The password. Well it’s not Drakken’s work, I can tell you that. I hacked the system and put in a new one.” 

“What is it?” Kim asked, her body becoming fidgety. Every second this man drew out was a second Middleton got closer to being decimated.

“It’s--” Carl started, turning towards Kim again. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Something caught his eye. Bright green light was dancing down the walls, growing more intense by the moment, as if something was headed towards them. It was--

 _Her._ Carl turned his head and raised his gun, but he was too late. 

A blast of green plasma nailed him right in the chest. It knocked him off of his feet, throwing him across the length of the room until his body slammed into the wall. Like a rag-doll, his body fell face-first to the ground, hitting the floor with a thud.

Kim turned with gritted teeth from Carl’s fallen body to who else would do a thing like this--Shego. 

The green woman waited twenty feet away from her, green plasma burning at her hands, a smirk cracking her head in half.

“You’re destroying Middleton? That’s low, Shego. Even for you,” Kim growled, shifting into a fighting stance.

“So Apeman told you everything, huh?” Shego sneered, “That guy is so annoying. Did you know that he took a week off just to visit his stupid ex up in Cali. Sheilah or something like that.”

“Shego, don’t do this. You, me, Ron, and Drakken saved the world once,” Kim pitched nervously. “We can--do that again.”

“Yeah we thought about that,” Shego sighed, tossing a ball of plasma up and down in her hand. “Didn’t work for us.” She tossed the first blast of plasma at Kim who somersaulted out of the way. And then one blast, and then another, and another...

Kim dodged from side to side, evading the blasts with ease. Despite all the chaos that was going on around her, it was somehow easy to focus on Shego. None of the blasts Shego threw her way worried Kim at all. 

_So let’s go on the offense,_ Kim thought, and without any hesitation, charged towards Shego, jumping and flipping her way past the blasts until she landed within a few feet of the woman. Stunned, Shego took a precious second to change her tactics to hand-to-hand.

Shego threw a punch forward, but Kim caught Shego’s wrist with her forearm before the blow even came close to making contact. Grimacing, Kim went for the next attack immediately: a punch to the face. And it hit Shego hard. 

“How could you and Drakken do this Shego?!” Kim spat out. “You had it! You had the chance to redeem yourself! You and Drakken could have done anything!” Tears sprang from her eyes. She had never felt so angry before in her life. 

Kim stepped forward calmly. As she blocked all of Shego’s attacks, her movements became very mechanical. Her posture stayed stiff and her eyes never strayed away from Shego’s, but she moved like a tank. Shego found no openings in Kim and she was losing ground fast. Kim was backing her up against one of those glass walls that if shattered, would dump the whole lair into the ocean. Not good. 

“Do you realize how many people didn’t have the chance that you two have?!” Kim shouted. “But for some reason I am in an underwater lair fighting for the lives of everyone I have ever loved!” Shego grimaced back at Kim. Kim’s fists clenched, “Do you really not have anything to say for yourself?!”

Shego jumped backwards and threw one blast, directly at Kim’s head. At close-range this was sure to get her. Already anticipating the victory, a smile grew on her face as she saw the blast about to engulf Kim. 

_Perfect,_ Kim thought proudly. All part of her strategy. The moment Shego leapt backwards, her right hand morphed into a scoop. She twirled to the left as the green blast soared toward her, but instead of dodging it, she caught the blast in the scoop. 

At the end of her 360° turn she let go of the blast. It flew back right at Shego and nailed her right in the chest. The woman flew back into the glass wall. A loud CRACK from behind her signified that Shego was down for the count. She crumpled into a slump on the wall, little spurts of watering pouring through the new cracks in the glass.

Kim’s heart leapt up her throat. Did she just kill Shego? She was only thinking about the mission, only thinking about getting her answers, that she went completely overboard. Cautiously, Kim approached Shego, lifting her head up gently. Nothing. She did it. The same thing she was scared of Ron doing. 

Searing pain on the back of her head. Her whole world rocked forwards as Shego’s knee slammed into Kim’s face. She had no control over her body as she was slammed into the same wall that Shego crashed into. A plasma-veiled hand brushed up against Kim’s nose. 

“Tell me how to shut down the generator,” Kim said calmly.

“It’s some kind of password system,” Shego said coyly.

“Well then what is the password?” Kim demanded.

“Um...would you believe me if I told you it was Cocoa-Moo?” Shego joked. The joke might have been better if Shego was able to sell it, but the wind was still knocked out of her.

“You know that man you just knocked out changed the password, right?” Kim asked, biting her lip. Kim turned to her left and saw Carl’s body facedown on the ground, the gun near his right hand. 

Kim jumped up, right into Shego’s fist where her chest collided with the plasma. It hurt unbearably much. She could feel herself losing consciousness, but she had to keep going. She swung her head right into Shego’s, knocking Shego off of her finally. Kim raised her left hand and a hatch opened on the arm. A grapple shot out of her arm and across the room, latching onto the handle of the gun. A flick of her wrist and the gun landed perfectly in her right hand. She took aim.

“Can I stop the drill from here? Are the machines connected?” Kim gasped, trying to keep a level head while also fighting off the pain. 

“Ooh, so Princess is packing now? I’m sha-sha-shaking,” Shego deadpanned.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Kim said, “But you’re not leaving me with many options here. ”

“So you’re gonna blow my head off? Not really your style, last time I checked.”

She was right. It wasn’t her style. But then again, thousands of lives were on the line. Her friends and family too. They were about to die because of her. She needed to save them. The details didn’t matter.

She thought of that spaceship that throttled towards the Earth’s surface two months ago. Two people died that day.

She looked at Shego again. But she couldn’t do it. The fear that rushed through her after she thought she killed Shego was already a lot to take in. Shego smiled.

Now what? 

**The Generator: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:30PM**

Ron paced back and forth, trying to verbalize everything that had happened. 

“...but the real death machine is in Middleton and it goes off in nine minutes...”

Meanwhile, Rufus fanned Dr. Drakken’s face desperately, hoping to revive the man back into consciousness. 

“Aw man, I bet Sensei would know what to do! What did he say? To defeat your---bad--dude...um...man, I wish I brought a pen that day we trained with him...” Ron sighed.

“ _Ronald._ ”

“Huh?” Ron turned to his right to see the glowing figure of Sensei. He was floating in the air, legs crossed, composed of blue light.

“ _To defeat your enemy, there are two things you must know...you must know your enemy,_ ” Sensei began. 

Ron craned his head up to look at Sensei, a smile growing on his face.

“ _And you must know yourself,_ ” Sensei ended.

A long pause. Ron looked down at his feet and scratched the back of his neck.

“You know, at the time that sounded really good,” Ron started, and jerked a thumb in the direction of the generator, “But now that I need to defuse this big drill thing I realized that this advice was really vague. Do you got anything else?”

“ _Um..._ ” Sensei stuttered. “ _Always tip your waitresses. Booyakasha!_ ” And with that Sensei disappeared from the room, but his voice still echoed everywhere. “The generator is controlled by a password. Kimberly knows the man who programmed it. He is your enemy.”

“So I gotta get to know this guy? Hm, I’m a friendly guy, I can make that work,” Ron mused, something suddenly clicking in his head, “Oh! Right! Sorry about kicking you across the dojo, that was so not cool.”

“ _Nah, Ron, we’re cool,_ ” Sensei’s voice echoed, this time, fading away.

Ron smiled and punched his chest two times before flashing a peace sign. 

Ron pulled out his Kimmunicator and pressed a button, biting his lip, praying that this was a good time to call.

**The West Wing: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:27PM**

_Beep-beep-de-beep._

Kim sighed, looking away from Shego for a split second to check her Kimmunicator. It was Ron.

“What’s the sitch, Ron?” she said, training her eyes back on Shego. 

“Yo, KP, so the drill doomsday machine thing here is--” Ron started.

“Fake. I know,” she growled. “Ron, this isn’t really a good time for this.”

“Wait! Hold up, remember what Sensei told us?” Ron asked.

“Um, not really. It wasn’t really that inspiring, to be honest,” Kim said.

“Oh what?! KP! You forgot! For shame,” Ron sighed, “Well to be fair, I didn’t really remember what he said either, so it was kind of embarrassing when he popped up, it was kinda like that time I met Steel-Toe and I forgot his catchphrase and--”

“Ron, you’re rambling,” Kim laughed, his goofiness breaking her focus for a second. “What are you getting at?

“Oh, um...what was it he said again?” Ron asked, looking at Rufus who was perched on his shoulder for advice. 

“Oh brother,” Rufus grumbled in that high-pitched chirp of his.

“OH! Right, you must know your enemy, and you must know yourself,” Ron started, taking in a deep breath, “So the password’s gotta be something personal to whoever programmed the drill, a-a-and Sensei said you know who did.”

“I do.” Kim looked over to Carl’s body. For the past five minutes, she had felt really connected to this guy. He was trying to be a hero despite his shortcomings. 

But now that it had come up...what did she know about this guy? His name was Carl Jenkins, and he was a mook for Drakken. She had probably clocked him out once before. In fact, she kind of sort of remembered him as one of the guys at the control panel during the L’il Diablos fiasco. Or was she just mentally placing him there now that she knew he was part of that scheme? Either way, she doubted any of that was good enough for a password to a doomsday weapon. 

“Ron, do you know how long--”

A bright green flash blew out Kim’s vision. A searing pain on her wrist. When the light faded, she looked down at her wrist to see the Kimmunicator destroyed. Then from the corner of her eye, two fists headed towards her face. 

Both of her arms jumped up, dropping the gun in the process, and she managed to catch the fists just in time; but it was a close call. She could feel the heat given off of the plasma inches from her forehead. 

“You got four minutes, Princess,” Shego smirked. 

Kim locked eyes with Shego for a second. She wanted to beat the stuffing out of her arch-nemesis, but that would take her about half a minute with the rage that she possessed, and she did not have that kind of time right now. What she needed was to stop Shego, even for just a second. She needed to think. 

Quickly, she moved her hands and slid her fingers around Shego’s wrist and clamped on tight, the plasma still burning.

No Kimmunicator meant that even if she did figure out what the password was, she wouldn’t be able to communicate that to Ron. So learning the password was no longer the priority: the question was could she get to the generator in time. To do that she absolutely needed Shego to bring her there. But what could possibly convince Shego? 

She wasn’t going to try The Punisher approach anytime soon. Shego wasn’t buying it and besides, it didn’t feel right. She needed to gamble something, but Shego’s life wasn’t enough for that. It had to be her own life on the table. 

Then it hit her. Figuratively and literally, because Shego started kicking at Kim. 

The two twirled around, exchanging kicks, Shego struggling to break free of Kim’s cast iron grip, and Kim struggling to hold onto Shego. Then her opening came. 

Kim ducked and head-butt Shego right in the chest, letting go of Shego’s wrists simultaneously. The impact killed Shego’s focus and with her hands free, the plasma blasts shot right out, soaring across the room and blasting out a decent sized hole in the glass wall. 

Ocean immediately started pouring in. 

Kim backed up near the water spilling and clicked a button on her belt. Her blue shield materialized, warding off the water.

“Are you ready to murder all of those innocent lives in Middleton, Shego?” Kim asked.

“Uh, yeah, da-doy. As long as you’re part of the package,” Shego sneered.

“Well what happens if I’m not alive to see it? Does it really matter then?” Kim cracked a scary smile. A hole opened up in her shield. Water poured into it, filling it up quickly, surrounding Kim in seawater. 

**The Generator: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:31PM**

“Okay, Rufus. This is just about the dumbest thing I will ever do,” Ron decreed. Tied to his belt was his grappling hook, which was latched onto a guardrail. “Let’s just hope my pants don’t fall off.”

Ron turned around and looked into the pit that he had accidentally knocked Drakken’s memo recorder into it. Hopefully that would have just what he needed on it. He looked back at Rufus.

“I-I-I mean, what are the odds of Drakken actually recording every little thing on that doo-hikkie?”

Rufus stared back at him, tapping his foot impatiently.

Ron sighed and turned away, looking back into the abyss. Alright, Ron. You got this. He heaved in a deep breath. Oh c’mon. Surely he could breath in more than that. He heaved again, inhaling more and more air until--

Rufus pushed him off of the edge.

Fair enough.

Ron plummeted down the pit, miraculously with his pants still on. “STOP!” he cried out as he passed by a nook in one of the edges. A few yards later and his descent came to a complete halt. Above him was the recorder. 

“Rufus!” he bellowed up the pit. “Start hoisting me up!” 

The rope creaked upwards, the recorder slowly becoming closer and closer. He reached outwards towards the device when he heard a loud wheeze from above. The rope went slack and Ron plummeted down the pit before a sudden jolt stopped him. 

Ron turned his head and looked up to see Rufus rubbing his tiny little hands. Rope burn.

“Oh, we did not think this through,” Ron sighed, smacking a hand to his forehead. 

**The West Wing: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:31PM**

“Princess!”

BOOM!“C’mon!”

BOOM!

Shockwaves rippled through Kim’s shield as Shego pounded on it, unable to break through. The unconscious Kim swayed around in the water as the shield turned around with each hit.

A wry smile crossed Shego. “Well played...” Her eyes lit up. She raised both fists and swung them down on the shield. The shield responded in ripples that went across the whole shield, growing by the second. The ripples looped around the whole shield in the blink of an eye, gaining speed and size until finally, the shield fractured into a million little pieces. The water rolled outwards, making a puddle on the floor. 

Shego got to her eyes and grabbed Kim, smacking her in the face.

“Wake up!” Shego muttered. Nothing. Rolling her eyes, she breathed in and leaned towards Kim, ready to give her the breath of life. Just before her lips made contact with Kim’s the younger girl’s eyes shot open.

“I didn’t know you cared that much, Shego,” Kim smirked. 

A furious blush hit Shego’s face as sudden as that red light that just came out of nowhere the other day. 

“Yeah...I’ll just...” Shego growled as he headed out of the hallway. “Show you to the...generator...thing.”

“Let’s just stay focused and not go picking out curtains just yet,” Kim laughed. 

Shego took in a deep breath and started running down the hall. The best Kim could do was trust that she was leading her to the right place. 

**The Generator: Drakken’s Lair  
July 26, 2007: 3:32PM**

When Shego and Kim entered the Generator room, Ron was still dangling off of the edge by his belt loops. 

“Shego, pull Ron up!” Kim shouted, running across the bridge and to the generator. She circled it, desperately trying to find the way to shut the thing off. But it was just control panel after control panel. Nothing too obvious. 

“KP!” Ron shouted, his voice echoing up the shaft as Shego lugged him out. “Um...thank you?” he said with a raised eyebrow before charging to Kim. “Check this out!” he cried out as he held out Drakken’s tape recorder.

The same steaming and groaning noises coming from the generator burst from the tape recorder. In the background, Drakken could be heard screaming for his life.

“ _Don’t worry, Doc,_ ” a calm voice. It was Carl’s. “ _Shutting this thing off is easy...as long as you know the password._ ”

A long pause.

“ _You do know the password, right?_ ” Carl asked, his voice slightly lower now.

“ _Yes! Yes! Now go on with it!_ ” Drakken roared.

“ _Okay, so to stop it from going off, you just need to go to the Southern panel and hit these commands...Stop Reset Reconfigure..._ ” Carl said as he pressed in button commands. 

Listening closely, Kim pressed the buttons as Carl listed them off. And then there it was: A password screen. A keyboard slid out of the machine, nearly popping her in the stomach. 

“ _And bingo! So what’s the password?_ " Carl asked, a little bit of pride in his voice. 

“ _Well that’s a funny story...not funny haha, but funny as in--_ ”

“ _You forgot the password._ ”

“ _You could say that..._ ” Drakken started, “ _I would prefer to say--_ ”

“ _Okay, I get it,_ ” Carl grunted. More typing. “ _Just gonna take a few guesses...um...Shego!_ ” 

“ _INCORRECT._ ” the computer said.

“ _Alright, how about---Drakkanada..._ ”

“ _INCORRECT._ ”

Another long pause. Some gibberish muttering from Carl. 

“ _Got it!_ ” Carl said. “ _Cocoa-Moo!_ ”

“ _What?!_ ” Drakken shouted, “ _Why would I use a dumb password like--_ ”

“ _CORRECT._ ”

“ _Oh,_ ” Drakken paused and scratched his head for a moment. Realization dawned in his eyes. “ _Ah, that does sound like something I would do._ ”

“Well, who woulda thunk it?” Shego laughed.

Kim started inputting the spelling to Cocoa-Moo when Carl’s voice broke her train of thought immediately. 

“We need to change the password. It’s too obvious.” 

Kim turned back in horror. Silence filled the room as all of them waited for Drakken to respond. The tape skipped and they heard Drakken’s voice all right: As he sang along to Oh Boyz. Ron clicked the tape recorder off. 

“Sorry, KP, I should’ve checked the whole thing,” Ron sighed, walking over to her to give her a hug. He wrapped his arms around her as her mind began racing.

“The password has to be Carl’s. No way Drakken thought of anything...what did you say earlier, Ron?” Kim backed off of Ron so she could look into his eyes. “Know your enemy?” Kim looked over to Shego who shrugged. They had one minute.

She may not known Carl well, but she knew a good deal of his motivation. Why he was working for Drakken. Why he was about to kill everyone in Middleton. His family. That’s not it though. He wouldn’t make the password “family.” He would name it after someone. Someone special, someone like--

“Sheilah!” Kim shouted. Shego said it herself. Carl’s ex-wife’s name was Sheilah. 

Ron ran to the computer and started typing quickly. “Hey, is Sheilah spelled with one H or--” Kim grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him to the side as she put in the rest of the command. 

“CORRECT.” the computer said in that glorious monotone of a voice. 

“Oh, thank God,” Kim sighed as she finally allowed herself to hold onto Ron.

“INITIATING SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE.”

Kim, Ron, and Shego all looked at the monitor at the same time.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”


End file.
